I Think I Love You
by jayelletee
Summary: Oliver Wood is the quidditch trainer at Hogwarts. Luna joins the class and an unexpected romance blossoms. It's all good but there's one important thing separating them. Student and teacher relationships strictly stay as student and teacher. rewritten! Warning: Luna OOC!
1. Save My Pitiful Life

Quidditch is really not my type of thing. As you can see right now, I'm doing quite poorly. No, that is an understatement. I am purposely humiliating myself in front of everyone in my fifth year quidditch training class, including our instructor: Oliver Wood.

I hear from people that he graduated from Hogwarts 3 years ago. He is supposedly the best quidditch keeper Hogwarts have ever had. This just makes the humiliating situation even more humiliating. Apparently, landing on my butt before even getting an inch off the ground is not helping this any much.

"I think you should get up before Wood sees you." A male voice whispered in my ear.

I do so, but with dignity. The boy's advice isn't life altering, but it is worth listening to. I turn to tell him that whether or not my butt is touching the ground isn't any of his business when my eyes meet up with a pair of light hazel ones. They belonged to the class instructor. His face stays blank, but his eyes are playful. I quickly straighten up, removing all sense of irritation from my face. "Sorry, Professor." I bend over and pick up my broom.

Finally, his face turns to match his eyes. Smiling, he says, "I'm new at this and I don't think I quite qualify for the term Professor yet. Oliver would be fine." Continuing to smile, he walks away.

That guy has some very nice teeth. I wonder what kind of toothpaste he uses. I lick my teeth, imagining its yellow hue, and cringed at the disgusting thought. Better keep my mouth shut.

"Oh my god, he is so cute! You're so lucky. He actually smiled at you!" Mary-Jane Hawthorne gushed.

"He's our teacher." I pointed out.

"He's so hot!" she continued.

"He's our professor." I said with emphasis.

"Ugh, you're no fun." Mary-Jane turned away and walked back to her group of friends.

I guess they're only here to check out our teacher. I never wanted to be here. I don't even know why I am here myself. I remember one thing: Dad saying that if I didn't give a little more, I'm going to end up with nothing in my life. That's just great to encourage your child to join a club. Well, this isn't a club. It's to help me make it in quidditch. It's a little late for me but as Dad says it, "It's better late than never."

I turn to look at our instructor. He's helping a boy steady himself on the broom while throwing a quaffle. I can see that he's not bad looking. Nice too, I guess, but nothing that stands out to me. He's just a guy. What makes him so special?

I climb back onto the broomstick and kick off hard. I shoot up into the air. Oh shit. I grip hard on the handle, trying not to plunge to my death. I look down and I see I am at least 15 feet high. This isn't good. I can't even fly. What am I doing up here? This is such a bad idea. Ok, let's just calm down and land back on the ground. I like the ground. I like the firmness of it. I know he told us something about landing. What is it? Leaning forward?

I try that but instead I fall forward and am hanging on for dear life with my feeble hands. Oh god, what have I gotten myself into? I scream for help with all my might. I look down to see if anyone hears me but it makes me feel nauseous. Great, now I'm going to throw up from 15 feet high onto the quidditch pitch in front of my fellow fifth years. A new thing to add to my list of humiliating things I've done in the past 10 minutes. How exciting!

No, no, this is not the time for sarcasm. I take a deep breath and start to scream again but a voice stops me.

"I heard you the first time. You alright?"

And what do you know? The 'Professor', yet again, gets to save me.

"Do I look alright to you?" Seriously, cut the sarcasm.

He crosses his arms in front of him and gives me a watch-your-mouth look. "I may appear young, which might translate into a pushover for you, but that's not what I am."

"You can yell at me when my butt is once again touching the ground." I am so getting detention!

He continues to glare at me.

"Okay, sorry. My hands are kind of slipping. Can you help me now?" I look pleadingly at him.

"Alright, just let go and I'll catch you." He instructs, holding out his arms in a ready position.

I laugh dryly. "You're kidding right?"

He gives me an impatient look. "Trust me. Just close your eyes and let go and I'll be right here to catch you. I promise I won't let anything happen to you." He reassures.

I look at him skeptically and think it over. Ok, well maybe I don't have time to think it over. I let go.

I am screaming. And I can't stop.

"Luna! Luna! Luna!"

"Huh?" I croak with my sore throat.

"You're fine."

Before I can register whether it is the truth, I feel the wave of nausea wash over me again. "I think I'm going to be sick." I groan.

"Oh no. Ok, hold on. I'm heading down right now. I'll go slowly." He sooths.

I close my eyes and settle my head on his shoulder, breathing in the slight breeze passing us. "I should have never joined this."

"Oh come on," Mr. Wood said cheerfully, "it wasn't that bad."

I open my eyes to stare at him. "You're not serious are you? Do you spend a lot of time saving people like that? 'Cause I don't spend much time with these near-death incidents and I'll like it to stay that way."

Mr. Wood looks down at me. He seems to be sizing me up. Gradually, a small smile forms on his lips. "Funny," he mutters.

"What?" I ask.

He doesn't reply.

"You think I'm weird don't you? I knew it. Everyone knows it. I'm Loony Lovegood." My anger begins to rise in my voice. Next thing I know, I feel my feet touch the ground. I quickly stand up and walk away from him, putting as much space between us as I can.

"Class dismissed!" He shouts to the others.

I turn to leave with them but he stops me. I look at him annoyed.

"I don't." Oliver Wood says simply and walks off towards the boy's changing room.


	2. Damn That Girl

I don't know why I acted like that. I am usually very cool about being called Loony Lovegood. I amused to it. I am used to getting picked on. That's their habit. That's my habit. I guess it's normal for a teacher to say they don't. They have to. Professor Wood probably feels exactly the same way as the rest of them but actually cares to say he doesn't. Well, that doesn't change anything at all. The first thing I'm going to do tomorrow is tell him that I'm quitting his stupid class.

I continue up the staircase to Ravenclaw's common room. My day is going quite bad but it gets even worse when I hear those oh-so-familiar giggles. I can't believe how unlucky I ca be in one day.

"Oh you guys! Look who it is. It's Loony!" A honey sweet voice sounds off.

I roll my eyes at the greeting. "Is that all you can come up with? It's great you're not getting bored, but I am." I turn to smile at Emma Weiferson.

Her smile wavers a little at my comment but returns. "I'm sorry Loony. It's just that with you the way you are, I thought you'd like me to say the same thing over and over again so you won't have to use your pea-sized brain to think up a new comeback." The rest of the girls laugh along with Emma. "See you around Loony." Emma begins to saunter off into her little world before adding, "And you might want to check with the Squid. I think he has something of yours." She smiles slyly and leaves.

What did they steal from me this time? I look at my watch and realize I don't have much time to retrieve my books and go to Potions. I decide to go to the lake at lunch and run to my room now. When I reach the top of the stairs, I see another person I do not want to see.

"I saw what happened." Professor Wood says softly.

This guy has a thing for touching a nerve. "I don't need your pity." I spit. I push past him and leave him to consider that next time, I better not see his face.

When I finally reach Professor Snape's classroom, I am 2 minutes late. "Miss Lovegood, care to tell us why you are so late for such an important class?"

I look stupidly at him. "Well, I um… I was rushing…and um...before I was...in um…"

"5 points from Ravenclaw for your inefficient manage of time and your inability to form a single sentence. Sit down."

The entire class roar with laughter, even my own house. Quite embarrassed, I quickly hurry to an empty seat near the door. I sigh and open our book to the present page. For the next half hour, we copy down notes and read off of our textbook. Then, a light tap sounds behind me. I turn to look and apparently, Wood hasn't learned his lesson because there he is again.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape. Sorry to drop in on you in the middle of class but, could I talk to Luna Lovegood for a moment please?" he asks politely.

"You haven't changed at all have you?" Snape completely evades the question. "Always interrupting my class with your silly quidditch business." He sneers.

Wood smiles politely. "Same to you."

The class can't help but chuckle. Snape clears his throat loudly and the class quiets down.

I glare at Wood, clearly not wanting to leave. What does he want with me? All I did was shout at him a bit but everyone does so once in a while. He doesn't have to do this. "Professor, I'm not finished with my notes yet. Perhaps I could talk to Professor Wood another time."

Snape looks at me questioningly. I think he sees that I don't want to go and being the nice teacher that he is, he makes me go. "Mr. Wood seems urgent and I suppose it is important enough to barge in on my class. As always," he pauses and looks at the other teacher right in the eye, "right Wood? Go now." He directs at me.

Wood nods, satisfied. He beckons me to follow him. I groan and get up. Why is this happening to me? Whatever did I do wrong? "Yes Mr. Wood? Is there anything I can help you with because please, I would love to lend a hand!" I say sarcastically.

"Alright, I think we got off on the wrong foot, perhaps we could start again?" He waits, actually expecting me to accept.

"Is this why you took me out of class and interrupted my studies for? Do you enjoy seeing me fail Potions? I don't need this." I turn away to leave but he stops me.

"I don't pity you. I just thought you wanted to talk to someone." He says genuinely.

"No, I don't need to talk to anyone, especially you. Why are you doing this anyway? Why don't you just go back to teaching and making kids' life horrible? As it is clearly what you miserable people do as you can see." I turn and imagine throwing fireballs through the door and hitting Snape square in the face. I face Wood again and glare at him venomously.

"I'm just trying to help. No need to rip my eyes out just because I care." He looks at me hurt, and then walks off.

Great, just great. He's supposed to be the one left standing here feeling horrible. Instead, I'm slouching here feeling miserable. Why did I do that? Do I not think before I speak? I guess I am a little bit on the rude side. Ok fine, I am rude. Goddammit, what is wrong with me?! He didn't do anything wrong. He just wants to know if I am fine and I chase him off. Luna, Luna, Loony. Do you know how many girls in this school would have died to be in your position a few moments ago?

Well, no.

A lot.

Ok, I can stop talking to myself now.

So what if the guy is caring and kind and nice and athletic and good-looking? That doesn't mean he can't be a bit nosy sometimes. Yeah, that's right. He is nosy. I have all the right in the world to yell at him. I don't like nosy people. Nobody likes nosy people. He'll probably yell at me if I am ever snooping in his business and eavesdrops on his conversations. It is perfectly fine for me to bitch at him. Yes, it is.

No, it isn't.


	3. Shock and Awe

Ch. 3Shock and Awe

Finally after Double Potions, lunch waited invitingly in the Great Hall. I was the last to leave the dungeon because Snape had assigned extra homework for me since it's 'more useful than detention.' I sat down sulkily at the Ravenclaw table but brightened up a bit at the sight of the food.

I was eating at a leisurely rate of time before I remembered that I still had to retrieve my possessions from the Squid. I began to stuff my face rather unpleasantly. My eyes wandered over to the teacher's table and caught sight of Mr. Wood looking at me. It seemed like he was trying really hard not to…laugh! He had watched me eat. That is just absolutely unacceptable! Eating is one's privacy. Well it is to me when I eat like that. He noticed that I spotted him and quickly glanced away.

Why is that every time I'm doing something embarrassing he is there to witness it? Coincidence or is he spying on me? No, why would anyone want to spend time spying on me? But then again why would anyone spend time picking on me… I feel so hopeless. I smacked my forehead in frustration. Lunch is officially over for me.

I swallowed what I had in my mouth and headed out into the entrance hall. Before I could place my foot on the first step of the staircase, I hear Mr. Wood's voice stopping me.

"Wait!"

I halted but didn't turn around.

"I got this for you."

Curiosity took over me and I turned to see what it was. It definitely wasn't what I expected.

"I took the liberty of getting this back from the Squid for you." He handed to me.

I stared dumbfounded at the object in his hand.

When I was younger, I was always reading rhyming picture books and my father thought I might have taken a liking into poems and bought me this notebook for writing my own ideas down. From then on, I've been writing everything down that came to my mind. It was a very private possession of mine. How dare that Weiferson girl take it from me!

I snatched the leather-bound book from him. "Well, you shouldn't have!" I shouted with my shrill voice which I think he's quite familiar with now. "Did you read it?"

"It's really good. You shouldn't be ashamed." He was talking like it was some great advice.

"Haven't anyone taught you that it's rude to poke your nosy face in other people's business! The book is mine and you had no right to go reading it!" I was clutching the book so tight that my knuckles were turning white. I whipped around and stormed up the stairs, not turning back once for a second glance.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! What was I thinking yelling at a teacher like that? Yet again, I wasn't thinking. If I don't get expelled by tonight I'm going to have to start praying to Merlin every hour. What have I done? I got myself fried this time. How could I be so stupid! I yelled at him twice already now. Well, I suppose I was right in a way but to say it like that to his face. And I called his supposedly 'hot, cute face' nosy!

I fell on my bed. After the incident in the hall, I had rushed up to my room in anger and frustration. Then after about 5 seconds, I realized what I had done. Should I go apologize to him and then oh-so-politely beg for mercy and forgiveness? My reputation would be ruined….well, not that I actually have one. I'll find time to go talk to him.

I sat there thinking about it. I groaned. If I really wanted to stay here I should go now. I sighed and went to the washroom to splash my face with ice cold water, clearing my mind for some nice, non-sarcastic words. I stared into my reflection and breathed out slowly. Here we go.

As I approached his office, my heart began to beat really fast. I knocked lightly on his door but no answer came. He must know it's me and is too mad to let me in. "Mr. Wood? Can I come in please? I promise this time I actually have something nice to say." I winced when once again no one answered. "If you like, I can tell you here outside." I waited and the same thing happened. He must be really mad. "Ok then. I understand. I just want to say I'm really really really sorry. What I said to you was—"

"Miss Lovegood, if you would like to speak with Mr. Wood you have chosen the wrong time. He's outside right now on the quidditch pitch with his fourth year class." A stern voice announced.

I turned to face Professor McGonagall. My face burned slightly from embarrassment. For once, Wood wasn't here to see it. I quickly thanked her and ran out to the front gate. I stepped out into the cold December wind. Oh great, I forgot my sweater. I ran towards the pitch in haste of my pitiful situation and also of the cold. The faster I get this over with, the faster I can get back inside to a warm fire.

As I reached the pitch, I saw that he was among a group of girls saying a speech while the others were crowding around with googly eyes. I guess if I had dashingly good looks I would take advantage of it, but from a teacher! Oh whatever, education comes first. Once I came into earshot of their conversation, I heard what he was talking about.

"Your right hand always stays in front, in landing or in taking off. If you want to make a quick swerve, lean as far as you can onto that side. That way if you were dodging a bludger, it wouldn't hit you." He smiled with satisfaction at his explanation and put his hands on his hips. All the girls ooh-ed and ahh-ed. I bet it wasn't for his brilliance of a lecture.

I stepped forward and cleared my throat loud enough to catch his attention. It did and once he laid eyes on me, he had that look: the look of never-wanting-to-see-you-again. He excused himself from the bunch of girls and headed towards me. Before I could say anything, he pulled me towards the lake.

We walked in silence as I thought up my apology. When I opened my mouth to start, he stopped me with his words. "I know what you want to say, but before you do let me have a word." He looked out towards the water. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone reading your things and upon that, I'm a teacher. I understand that you would be so mad and your reaction was completely reasonable. I'm really sorry."

I stared blankly back at him in pure shock.


	4. Leave Me Alone

Ch. 4Leave Me Alone

Did I hear him correctly? The teacher which I yelled at in front of the entire school just apologized to me. Is there something wrong with my ears or is it his brain? The chilly winter wind probably knocked the sense out of him. "Um, you see. I came here to say sorry to you. What are you apologizing for?" I looked at him confused.

"Oh, you are?" he asked, surprised.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, Mr. Wood. That was unacceptable and I am willing to make up for it." I said.

He smiled. "Well, I suppose a detention will do it."

"Hey, you can't do that! I mean, you were wrong too. Shouldn't you get punished too?" I reasoned.

"Am I not? I have to stay behind with you. That's enough a punishment for me." He looked teasingly at me then walked away.

That was so rude! I stomped away back to the building. I had Transfiguration next. McGonagall hated people being late and might I ask doesn't everyone? I hurried on to my room to get my books. On the way out, I bumped into Emma. Just great.

"What were you doing with him?" She shoved me against the wall with her hand.

"What? No 'Look, it's Loony!'?" I rolled my eyes and looked away from her.

"Don't mess with me! I can make your life miserable and you know it. What were you doing with him!" she threatened.

"Go ahead and make it miserable. It already is. I think it'd be rather exciting to have you try and make something miserable even more miserable." I took a step towards her. Our faces were inches apart.

"You think you're so great, standing up to me like that, but all it's doing is pissing me off and that's not a good thing. You're going to get it, Lovegood. Watch your back. Fifth year has just gotten harder." Emma pushed me one more time and stalked away.

"Oh, please! I've heard better than that." I stuck my tongue out at her retreating back. Yes I know, so second grade.

I headed out the portrait hole and ran along the corridors to McGonagall's classroom on the fifth floor. Just as I was turning around a corner, I slammed smack into something hard, warm, and with a good scent. "I'm so sorry! Are you…" I let my sentence hang unfinished in the air.

"Miss Lovegood, I think for the safety of our fellow students, you should retain from running in the hallways. Luckily, this time it's me. What if next time it's a small first year? You would probably crack their skull." Oliver Wood warned.

"I think you've cracked my skull already before I can even touch one of them." I mumbled under my breath.

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you properly. Did I hear you just say sorry?" A slow smile began to creep onto his lips.

I bit my lip from the vile words that were about to burst from my mouth. He has a point: superior over the inferior. I guess it makes sense. Fine, for once I'll succumb to his stupidity. "Yes, I'm sorry. I should've watched where I'm going, but I need to be on my way. McGonagall is waiting." I said as politely as I could.

"Be on your way then."

Seriously, I should've just shut up and let him apologize. He's gotten so cocky now. I need verbal management…if there is such thing. What have I done to myself? Things just get worse and worse, doesn't it? It's been only one day! Imagine all the things I could do in the whole year… Don't! What good will it do for me to be pessimistic. Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. I sighed heavily and continued on my way.

Throughout the whole period in Transfiguration, there was a lingering smell that didn't seem to want to go away. It seemed very familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I spent the whole hour wondering where it came from. Before I knew it, the period was over. I shook my head, trying to clear the smell from my mind for Herbology.

As I walked past the quidditch pitch heading to Green House 2, my eyes automatically scanned the field for that tall, brown-haired professor. Once it registered itself on the Scottish birkie, the recurring scent settled in on me again. Oh, so it was his scent… But why do I have it on me? I sniffed my clothes but it wasn't there. What's going on?

"I think Loony has finally realized that a child whose hit puberty gets a thing called body odour. Too bad no one told her about deodorant." It was Emma once again. She never gets tired does she? Just as I was about to fire back at her, a voice appeared behind me.

"I think she smells awfully nice."

That scent… A hand laid itself on my shoulder. I looked up to face Oliver Wood. My mind was in a blank. I used to be so quick. Words fly out of my mouth, but now my tongue is lolling uselessly. What does he think he's doing? I don't need his help! I could do fine without him bugging in all the time. I swear he could be stalking me! Without another word, I pushed myself out of the throng of people who had crowded around to watch. I could feel everyone's eyes burning into the back of my head.

What is wrong with me!


	5. Detention in the Shed

Ch. 5 Detention in the Shed

Whispers hung heavily in the atmosphere of Green House 2. Eyes darted everywhere but always landed on me. I knew they were talking about me. Why all of a sudden is Loony Lovegood such a big deal? No one used to care about me. I liked being left alone and avoided. It's all ruined now because of that stupid individual whom you call a professor.

"Is it true," Hawthorne came up behind me, "that you're going out with Professor Wood?"

I turned to look at her aghast. "No!" I shouted in disgust. "People," I addressed my fellow students. I stood up and all the whispers died down. "There is nothing going on between me and Professor Wood. How can that even get into your head in the first place! That is so wrong." I shook my head, imagining what else they could be thinking of. I cringed. As I sat down, I thought everyone would just go back to their normal state, gossiping about others.

"She's so protecting him!"

"She's lying! Did you hear what he said outside?"

"I can't believe he chose her over me!"

Oh, god. They're hopeless!

I stood outside Oliver Wood's door, staring at the knob. I don't even know what I'm doing. Either get this over quickly, or just leave and say I don't deserve the detention. But then there's a part of me which really wants to go in and see him. That's the thing that's scaring me and making me stand here like an idiot. Why do I have these weird feelings? It's probably because I hate him so much. Yes, that's it. So why am I still standing here? He did say he would do anything for me to forgive him. I'll just tell him that I won't forgive him until he…gives me an A for quidditch. I smiled when I finally made my decision. As I began to turn away, the door to his office opened.

"You're late." He stated simply. Wood opened the door wider and stepped out.

I looked at him curiously, but stood my ground. "I've decided that I don't deserve this. You were wrong too and why should I be the one to punish? I think it would make more sense if we just forget it ever happened and move on." I looked up at him confidently.

He rolled his eyes and said exasperatedly, "Oh, don't be ridiculous." He then went on to close the door behind him and grabbing my hand, pulled me towards the Great Doors.

"Wait! Where are we going?" I had to take two steps to keep up to his one stride. This guy certainly didn't want to waste any time…Oh god, what am I saying! I looked at his attire: heavy coat, scarf, and gloves. What about me! "Are we going outside? It's freezing out there! You want me to die?"

He looked at me annoyed. "Fine, take this." He took off his coat and draped it on my shoulders. He then proceeded to open the door, letting in a big gust of cold wind. Outside, snow was falling down heavily. It coated the pavement, making it shine like a sheet of diamonds. It was breathtaking, literally.

"Are you crazy? What about you?" I pulled the coat tighter around me as we stepped outside. Yes I know, a very bad contradictory. I can't help it.

"It's ok. I've been in these tough weather lots of times during games. It's nothing to me." He closed the door behind me and took my hand again. We began our protractedly bitter journey across the grounds to the pitch.

"I just don't want you to catch hypothermia and blame it on me."

"I would be much grateful already if you got across this pitch alright." He took a quick glance back making sure I was walking alright.

Just as I was about to protest for this detention to screech to a halt, my balance didn't quite follow the laws of gravity and I tipped over. I mean fall over.

"Ouch!" My hands automatically reached out to support me. They dropped into the snow and I started to feel the numbness reach under my skin. The coat belonging to Oliver Wood was becoming damp also. This is like a preservation packaging. Two words: Not good.

"Are you alright?" Wood bent over me, observing.

"What a smart question to ask. You do have a brilliant mind. I see it now." I picked myself up, tripping only once. Wood reached out to lend me a hand. Keeping the theory I had in my mind, I pulled back quickly. "I'm fine."

He looked at me annoyed, then took off his gloves. "Put them on. I don't want a student of mine missing class because they froze their fingers."

"I would be prepared if someone would've cared to tell me that we were going outside in the freaking snow!" I wanted to refuse his offer but then I thought, why freeze to death myself when he can do that. I gladly snatched it away from him and put it on.

"The jacket is no good either." He handed me his scarf. He should give me everything, since he dragged me into this dreadful place. Wood now had nothing left except his shirt, pants, and robe. Anyhow, I took his scarf too.

"What exactly are we doing out here in the storm at night while we could be soundly sleeping in our warm, comfortable beds?" I pointedly asked. "You must have something better to do. I know I do. Can't I just write some lines or sit and stare?" I looked around me and I found that we had reached the pitch. Wood led me to the equipment shed next to the boys' changing room. "Why are we here?"

"Do you always have so many questions?" he asked in an irritated tone. "We're here to clean up the mess so we'll be prepared for the quidditch tournaments this year." Wood forced a smile at me.

"Why do I have to do it?" I looked around the dank, dark shed, clearly repulsed. Cobwebs hung in the corners of the ceiling. Dust covered every inch of the room. Old brooms and quaffles laid untouched in crumbling cardboard boxes. This would take forever to do!

"Because you're in detention and because I said so." Wood said as if the answer was so obvious that the fly in Galaxy X could see it.

I groaned when he reminded me of the horrible truth. What have I done to deserve this all?


	6. Undelightful Confessions

Ch. 6 Undelightful Confessions

"Let's get to work shall we?" Oliver Wood clapped his hands together and smiled broadly. I can't even believe he's actually happy about all this. "I'll work on the brooms and you'll wipe the quaffles. We should take this all inside so it would be more comfortable." He placed the box of quaffles in my hands, showering me with dust.

"Thanks a lot." I brushed off my robes. "And where might this 'inside' be?" I looked out the doorway to the pitch questioningly.

"The boys' changing room of course. Where else?" He picked up his box of brooms and beckoned me to follow him out.

My shoulders slumped at the hours to come. I reluctantly followed him into the boys' changing room. "How long are we doing this?" I asked hopefully.

"As long as it takes to finish this." He answered, taking out the Broomstick Servicing Kit out of the closet. He set it on the bench next to him and prepared to start cleaning. "Unless of course, you want to split this into duration of a couple of detentions. I really don't mind." He smiled slyly.

I bit my lip from yelling at him and quickly sat down on the opposite bench from him to begin my job. Oliver Wood could not have found a worse detention for me to do. I sighed heavily and picked up the towel. Silence fell as each of us did our own duty. The awkwardness settled in too. Fine, if I really have to make this less miserable, I'll talk. "So how did you end up cleaning brooms here?" I quirked my eyebrows at him.

"Did I fail to mention yet again that you started all this?" he asked, trying to hold down his anger from being annoyed. By me.

"Me! Me! It was you who stole my book! Not me! This has nothing to do with me. I don't even know why I am here. Why am I here!" I had stood up a bit too quickly, knocking over the box of quaffles. It was a really embarrassing scene: me standing with a lame question unanswered, a face turned purple, steam coming out of my head, and balls rolling around me. Why does this always happen? It seems me and Oliver Wood can never have a civilized conversation. It's his fault! Obviously.

"Would you please," Wood placed his palms together, "stay rational for ONE moment?" He also stood up.

"Me! Irrational! Those two words aren't even grammatically correct if put together in the same sentence!" My hands were going wild with all the gesticulations I was doing. "I am not staying here any longer. You like annoying me so much? Well, you succeed. I'm so annoyed that I think I'll just go to my room and jump into the fireplace." I didn't move. I can't believe I just said that. How pathetic can one person get!

Oliver Wood burst out laughing. He was clutching his stomach and laughing so hard that it was…amusing almost. Almost! My anger, I could feel, was going over the boiling point. I turned to leave but I stepped on something I shouldn't have: a quaffle. It slipped right out from underneath me and sent me flying backwards. Fortunately, (I'm not so sure about that later on) Oliver Wood caught me. I looked up at him and smiled nervously. "I'm standing now. You can let go."

But he didn't. Keeping his gaze fixed to my eyes, he said, "You're a funny girl, you know that?"

I looked at him like he was crazy.

After a while, he seemed a bit tired for his head began to fall towards my face. His eyes were still open though and not drooping. What was going on? Wait a second! Is he? Is he? Oh my god he is! He wouldn't! Would he? I mean, after saying that I was funny girl he actually expects me to kiss him! What kind of a blithering idiot is he? And to talk about the age difference! He wouldn't, but he's not stopping. His head is still falling towards me. Maybe I should do something? But I can't. Somehow I feel like I'm frozen in this position in his arms. Do something Loony! Did I just call myself that?

His face was just a millimeter away before I yelled, "Professor Wood!" I quickly pushed him away and jumped a meter back. "What do you think you're doing?" I really didn't want an actual answer from him but it just felt right to ask.

"I…I…was…" he stuttered. "I had no idea what was going through my head. I am so sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen. I mean…you were…you fell…and—"

"And you felt responsible to take advantage of a damsel in distress? Am I right?" I glared at him with my hands on my hips.

"No! No! It's definitely not like that. Of course it's not!" His head fell down in shame. "I'm so sorry. It will never ever happen again. My feelings just took over for a while and I just lost control, but don't worry. I'll control them next time." Oliver Wood nodded his head eagerly.

"Feelings?" I asked, confused, disgusted, and scared at the same time.

"I mean…a spur of the moment. It shouldn't even have occurred or appeared in my mind or—"

"Spur of the moment? So you're telling me that I'm some kind of whore you can satisfy yourself with whenever you feel like it!" I cut him off again.

"NO! No, you're not a whore. Definitely not! I just…" He sighed and fell onto the bench. "I don't know. I just don't know. But you know what? Forget it. Pretend it never happened. I don't know what got into me, but I didn't in any way mean to hurt or scare you." He looked over at me apologetically.

"Easy for you to say. How am I supposed to forget this ever happened? You, a professor, tried to molest me, a fifth year student! How is that a situation easily forgotten? I'm probably a troubled teen now who needs counseling and guidance!" I turned away from him and dropped my forehead into my hands. "I can't believe this."

Oliver Wood stood up again. "Ok first of all, I'm only 20 and you're 15. That's not THAT big a difference. Second of all, I did not molest you and finally, you are not a troubled teen! I'm sorry ok? I said the wrong thing." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"Don't speak to me in that tone of yours! I'm the victim here!" I pointed at myself.

Oliver Wood looked at me as if I grew a pair of antennas. "You sound like my mother."

There we go! We're back to the way we were 5 minutes ago. Isn't that nice? "Whatever, but I want to go. I don't think I can stay here any longer and I don't think I'll ever come here ever again. Ugh, and to think it's the boys' changing room!" I cringed and shivered.

"Hey, I'm not that bad alright. I have plenty of girls knocking at my door." He smirked in pride.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Then why don't you go molest them instead of me?"

"For the last time, I don't molest girls or anyone for that matter." He corrected me. "They usually just hop into my bed." He grinned wickedly.

My eyes grew wide in disbelief. Did those seven words seriously just came out of his mouth? "That information was so NOT necessary, Professor Wood." I reminded him.

"Oh, right. Well anyway, I'm really, truly sorry. I hope this doesn't create…you know…anything awkward between us." He said, changing his tone completely.

"A bit late, don't you think?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He laughed, tuning down the tense atmosphere. I was about to suffocate. "Let's just pick up these quaffles and get back to work." He bent down and began throwing the balls back into the boxes.

I crossed my arms. "After all this, you actually think I'm going to continue this detention? I'm a tired and stressed out teen here. Can't I just go back?"

Wood sighed and picked up the last of the quaffles. "Alright, but help me put away these boxes."

I gladly helped out and we were out of there before I knew it. Thanks to Wood's idiotic ways, my detention was cut short by 3 hours of cleaning dusty brooms and balls. Cheers to that.

A/N: This is the last of the rewrite. Sorry guys for the lllooonnnnggggg stall. I took a rather large break from writing. Odd how I'm starting to write again when Provincials are coming up. (I live in Canada. Provincials are like SATs or whatever exams you take in wherever you live.) Don't worry peeps, I'm half way finished on Ch. 7. Have fun reading!


	7. My Fault AGAIN

Ch. 7 My Fault AGAIN

Quidditch…why did I ever listened to my father? It was the first thing in the morning and I was late. I didn't sleep all that much or all that well last night. I was thinking about what drove our friendly quidditch professor to become the stupid idiot that he is now. It was interesting enough to keep me awake for a long time. So there I was, walking to the centre of the pitch where the class was.

"Sorry," I announced my presence as I joined the group and was greeted by the absence of our regular quidditch professor.

"Miss," the substitute teacher paused and looked down at her attendance list, "Lovegood. You're late. 5 points from Ravenclaw for your inefficient manage of time." She looked at me sternly. "Don't let it happen again."

Whoa, was she and Snape related in any way? They say the exact same things. Quitting quidditch is flashing before me as the major life advice right now. And once again, I was being glared down by my fellow Ravenclaws. I love them so much.

"Ok class, I want three laps around the pitch from each of you. Then the chasers will practice passing and shooting with the keepers at that end of the field. The beaters will practice with the bludgers on the other end. I'll let out the snitch for the seekers. Let's get going!" she shouted out the instructions. The class quickly scattered and hopped onto their brooms.

This woman was worse than Wood. How I dreamed that he was back. Where was he anyway? Was he so embarrassed that he had to skip class to avoid me? No, I usually don't have that much power over another human being. Then what was he doing instead of teaching quidditch, which was also his passion? Wait, why was I even bothering to question where he went? It's not any of my business. He could do whatever he wanted and I wouldn't give a damn. He probably got fired which I gladly accept on my part.

"Miss Lovegood, are you waiting for luck to come?" Without waiting for my reply she yelled, "Get on your broom and start your three laps or I might just turn it into thirteen for you." She glared at me then turned swiftly to go shout at another student.

I looked at her retreating back. Snape had come to haunt us in a female form. How dreadful. He already poisoned Potions class and now he's working his way to Quidditch. Sooner or later he'll have the entire school under his command. Absurd thinking but I like the idea.

I reluctantly climbed onto my broom and rose into the air without any difficulty. Wood taught me how…God, why am I thinking about him? Stop it!

I began to circle the pitch slowly. Apparently that wasn't good enough for Professor Snape-Look-Alike.

"Lovegood, get your butt moving! By the time you reach the other side of the pitch the game's going to be over! Nobody's waiting for you. Not your teammates and sure as hell not your opponent." She shouted at the top of her lungs up to me.

I looked down at the ground and glared at the pinky-sized figure of her. Oh if I could just squish her between my fingers. Even Wood wouldn't yell at me like that. Shit, there I go again. Snap out of it, Loony.

Gradually, I finished my three laps and touched ground. I turned to see Mrs. Snape already heading for me.

"Lovegood, the rest of the class are practicing already. Can you not pick up the pace by at least a millisecond? That'll give you enough time to pack up everything for the end of class." She was about to turn away but I stopped her.

"Um, actually Professor… Professor, I'm not feeling very well today. That's why I haven't been up to my standard. Could I maybe…go to Madam Pomfrey's? I think a quick medicine from her would fix me up alright." I lied.

Really, how can anyone stand her? I have perfectly reasonable reasons to get out of class. Not that.

Mrs. Snape waved me off carelessly. "You're not a big forfeit to the team anyway."

"Thanks," I said genuinely yet with a hint of sarcasm. Well, maybe it was entirely sarcastic. I ran off to the girls' changing room. And who do I see waiting for me? Emma.

"Surprised?" She smirked. She strutted over to me and began circling like vulture. "I've come to fulfill my promise. I talked to Professor Flitwick and he allowed me to drop Ancient Runes for Quidditch. I said I needed more exercise for a healthy diet and he agreed."

I snorted.

Emma stopped in front of me and glared.

"I'm sorry. Please, do continue." I smiled.

"Don't worry. We'll see who'd be laughing later on this year." She reached out her index finger and shoved me. "You just wait." Emma pushed past me and headed out to the pitch.

"Have fun!" I shouted after her. "Tell me how it goes!" I shook my head at the irony of it all. I opened the broom cupboard and put mine back. Without a second glance back, I walked swiftly back to the main building.

As I entered through the Great Doors, I realized I had absolutely nothing to do. I had a potions essay that I could've completed last night but I just had to go to detention with…

Maybe I could go ask why he didn't come to class. No, that'd be suicide. Just forget about him! I thought, frustrated.

I stormed up the Grand Staircase towards Ravenclaw's common room. At least what I thought to be it. When I had stopped walking, I looked up to find myself outside of Wood's office.

What the hell is wrong with me! I slammed my fist against the wall. It's completely normal for a teacher to not be in class. It happens all the time. It's his own business. Why should I care?

But I couldn't stop wondering.

Just take a deep breath, knock on the door, ask a simple question, and leave! Alright, deep breaths. I raised my hand to knock on the door just as I heard brisk foot falls down the hall. I turned to see Madam Pomfrey.

"Ms. Lovegood what are you doing here?" She interrogated.

"I was wondering why Professor Wood wasn't present in class today." I said as polite as I could. I wouldn't want to get on her nerve.

"He's sick. That's why." She practically yelled. "Who'd be insane enough to go out in this kind of weather without any covering!"

Apparently him.

"Now run along. Professor Wood wouldn't have any visitors until I'm done with him." She shooed me aside and opened the door.

I caught a glimpse of his office and saw that the door at the back of the room was slightly opened. I suppose that was his bedroom. Madam Pomfrey stepped in front and obscured my view.

"We don't have all day." She complained impatiently.

"Do you know how long this will take?" I inquired.

"In a matter of seconds with my aid, but I presume that Professor Wood would want his rest. Come back tomorrow." She waved me off once again and slammed the door in my face.

Pleasure meeting you also, I mouthed to the closed door.

So Wood was sick. And whose fault was it?

Mine!


	8. Visiting the Sick

Why did he have to give me his coat? And scarf? And gloves? He was practically naked. But oh no, he's been in these tough weathers a lot of times during games and it's nothing to him. Nothing my arse! And I just had to be stupid enough to believe him. I think his stupidity is rubbing off on me now that I'm around him so much. Note to self: after all this dies down, stay away from Wood and his stupid, pathetic arse.

Damn, what is taking so long? I paced in front of Wood's door, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to come out.

Wait, if she sees me still here, she'll just tell me off. I'll hide by the corridor then come out when the coast is clear.

As I scurried down the hall, I imagined the dumb image of me bent over running off. Can't believe I'm doing all this for him!

"Miss Lovegood!"

Too late. I slowly turned around with a sweet smile plastered on. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey?"

"I don't know what he's thinking but Wood heard you outside the door and he asked me to bring you in." She said, annoyed. 'He wants to see you' would've been enough said.

"Thank you." I ran over and caught the door. "By the way, it's just a cold right?" I asked out of curiosity.

"And a high fever. Quite high. He really should be taking his rest. But teenagers nowadays all just want to have 'fun'. Fun, fun, fun, and they never realize the risk they're taking. Health is always f—"

"Thanks again." And I shut the door. Really, she just keeps talking and talking and talking. Never shuts up that woman.

"Luna, is that you?"

I jumped at his voice. "Yes," I shouted towards the open door. Boy was his office messy.

I scanned the shelves and the top of the desk. Papers and books were scattered everywhere. Here and there were cups of left over butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and coffee. Stains of all sort covered the carpet. One of the chairs in front of the desk was actually turned over.

I headed to the back of the room and slowly pushed open the door. The room was of a circular shape. At the centre was a canopy bed with sheets of a deep maroon. Two floor lamps lined each side of the bed. An oak chest lay at the foot of the bed. Chests of drawers overflowing with clothes stood next to heavily curtained French windows. Outside of each was a small deck. A doorway to the left led to the washroom.

"Are you done examining?" Oliver pushed himself up onto the propped up pillows.

"You're very neat." I concluded. I walked over to him. How should I start this? I'm sorry? Are you ok? It's my fault? Let me clean your room for you? Ah, what am I thinking? Why did he call me in anyway? Probably to yell at me for landing him in the bed sick. But it's not like I forced him to give me his coat right? He willingly offered it to me and I just accepted. Nothing wrong with that.

"Luna?"

Time to speak. "I'm sorry." Good choice of words.

"It's not your fault. I should've warned you about going outside. Then I wouldn't have ended up giving you all my clothes and freezing to death myself." Wood explained.

"No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have taken the clothes from you." I don't know why I'm saying all this when I don't even mean it.

"No, it's my fault."

"No, mine."

"No, mine."

"Yes, yours."

Wood looked up at me surprised.

I grinned. "We had to stop some time."

He laughed. "But you are right. Forget about the whole stupid detention thing. Nothing good has come out of it so why continue?"

"That is the most sensible thing I've heard from you since the beginning of the course." I said, amazed.

He rolled his eyes. "My quidditch lectures aren't bull either."

I crossed my arms. "To me they were."

"Hey!"

I smiled awkwardly as silence began to fall between us. "So you needed to see me?" I started.

"Oh, I just want to apologize again about what happened last night." Wood's eyes fell. He began to play with the corner of the sheets.

"Yes, bring it up again," I mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"It's better off that we just put it all behind us. I mean, you've got your punishment and I've got mine." I forced a smile.

"What punishment?" he asked, confused.

"Obviously you haven't met our lovely Professor Snape-Look-Alike." I groaned.

"Is this why you're out of class?" Wood looked at me suspiciously.

"No," I looked away guiltily, "I best leave you to your rest. Perhaps you'll be back next class?" I asked hopefully.

"No doubt that I would." Wood stretched and got off his bed. He poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher sitting on a nearby drawer. Taking a sip, he cocked his head and asked, "Miss me already?"

At this, I felt my face flush. I turned away from him and quickly mumbled a 'hardly'.

"You're probably not the only one," he continued on with a hint of cockiness in his voice.

I rolled my eyes as I headed for the door. The blindness of some of the girls in my class is getting to his head. "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then." I said with much forced annoyance in my voice. As I closed the door, I saw him wink at me. I felt my heart quicken its pace.

What is wrong with me! It's just a wink! It's just a boy for goodness sake! Get a grip, Luna. He's your professor. It's not right to think about him other than the way you think about McGonagall or Flitwick. He doesn't mean anything special. He's probably like this to all the girls in the school. That's probably why they're swooning over him like mad cows. Snap out of it! Who do you think you are to think that Oliver Wood would give you the time of the day? He's bored of the attention the other girls are giving him, so he's decided to pick on someone different. Different like me, or rather weird.

I rushed out of Wood's office, not wanting to stay there a second longer. I hurried down the corridor and up the stairs towards Ravenclaw's tower. As I walked on, all the worst case scenarios that could happen in a quidditch class to me ran through my head. It didn't help to lighten my mood.


	9. The Wrong Wood

"Have you seen him lately? I think teaching quidditch is doing him some good!"

"Especially his arms. I wonder if he takes a potion for that."

"No way! It's definitely all real."

"I for one like his hair. I'd just die to run my hands through it."

Giggles erupted from the group of girls that were gossiping during lunch a few seats down from me at the Ravenclaw table. Each of them quickly got up from the table as the bell rang for fifth period.

I groaned as I got up too. I've been trying so hard to stop thinking about Wood but everywhere I go I hear people talking about him. Once I returned my book bag back to my dormitory, I headed out to the quidditch pitch.

Hawthorne and her group of friends were whispering and pointing at the girl Wood was talking to. She turned around and I felt myself glaring at Emma. She's begun plotting her way to steal Wood, which I can hardly bother to care.

I allowed my broom to hover in the air as I stretched. I had thought this overnight. If I put all my concentration on perfecting my quidditch skills, I could push Wood out of my mind. It was worth a try.

"Class," Wood addressed us, "the quidditch games got off a late start this year but it won't be long before the first game starts. The try-outs for each houses' team are already posted in your common rooms. I expect each and every one of you to try out. The following classes are going to be tough, but I know all of you will stick through it. I'm going to test all of you on all the techniques I taught you. Now for warm-up, I want 4 laps around the whole field." He finished.

I sighed. He's starting to work us real hard. He used to ask for only 2 laps. How am I to handle all this sudden pressure to make it onto a quidditch team? I walked back to where my broom hung and clambered on.

"Hurry up, Lovegood!" Wood shouted as he passed by.

I looked up, clearly shocked. Did he just yell at me? I looked around me and noticed I wasn't the only one who was still on the ground. Why was I the only one shouted at! Maybe he's stressed out about the try-outs too. He does have his reputation to hold up if we don't qualify for the teams since he's the one teaching us. But why did he have to put his anger out on me out of all people? This is so unfair! He's trying to make me feel bad after I got him sick.

With frustration starting to bubble inside of me, I kicked hard off the ground. I shot up into the air. I looked down at the small figure of Oliver Wood. If I could only squish him like a fly, I'd be so much better off right now. I quickly finished my 4 laps and touched back down.

As all of us landed, Wood began to assign us to groups. Sadly, I was in the same group as Emma. She sneered at me when I looked in her direction. I chose to ignore her.

After telling the groups to practice on their own first, Wood led us to one end of the pitch. He tossed us all a quaffle. For some reason, I felt that he threw one at me extra hard. I actually staggered backwards a bit from catching it. I shot a glare at him but he didn't see.

"I want all of you to take a shot at me. This won't stop until I see some decent goals from all of you." He flew off toward the goalposts as we lined ourselves up.

"We all know this is impossible," a fourth-year boy spoke up in front of me.

"Ya, he was the best keeper Gryffindor ever had," his friend replied.

My shoulders slumped. There will never be an end to this. While everyone had their first try, Wood shouted pointers and sometimes compliments at the students, though no one ever scored. When it was my turn, I prepared myself at the front of the line. For once, I was going to actually try. I flew forward and faked a move to the right and quickly darted to the left and aimed for the third goalpost. Wood caught it easily.

"Lovegood, what was that! I want to see some effort. Get back in line!" He threw the quaffle back into my limp arms.

This cannot be happening. Did Wood eat something wrong at lunch? Why is he so…mean? Just yesterday he winked at me and now he's glaring at me. I gripped the quaffle hard and bit on my lips to stop myself from shouting out anything foul.

"Move, Loony!" Emma yelled, as she glided foward to take her turn.

I slowly slunk back to the end of the line. I watched as Emma made a feeble whip of her arm. The quaffle barely reached a large perimeter of the goalposts. Wood had to fly forward to catch it. After that attempt, I couldn't believe what he said. "Good try, Emma. Keep it up!" He smiled brightly at her, which caused her to blush deeply.

"Excuse me? That was the worst shot I'd ever seen!" I heard myself say before I could stop.

"Lovegood, I'm in the position to pass judgement, not you. So I suggest you to improve on your own shots before you criticize another's." He began to descend.

I followed, not satisfied with the reply he gave me. "How much did she pay you to say that? Oh no, wait. That's not what you want. How many nights did she offer you?" I shot at him.

Wood whipped around. There was a look of hurt in his eyes before it was quickly replaced by pure fury. "Lovegood, you can sit out for this class and detention Saturday night. Let's hope that will help you shut that mouth of yours." He spat. He turned to the rest of the group and said in an almost controlled tone, "The Keeper group will continue to practice with you. I'm going over to the Beaters."

My jaw had dropped at his words as he continued down to the ground. What the bloody hell! I was too stunned to shout another insult at him. That was the first time he ever said anything that truly hurt me. What happened to him? One cannot turn evil overnight unless he was under the Imperius Curse. Was he? I would rather he was than him actually meaning the words he had said. I had wanted to forget about him but now the situation had did a total reverse flip. Now I can't stop thinking about him. You would think that after being so rude to me, I would force myself to get over him (not that I was ever under him). But now, his sudden change of character has got me thinking what potion he had drunk.

Slowly, I drifted back onto ground. Whatever energy or motivation I had before to actually try in quidditch was driven out of me. I trudged back towards the changing room, but I hadn't trudged fast enough. Emma caught up with me.

"There's going to be a lot more where that came from." She smirked, before she skipped back to her group.

I knew it! I knew Emma had something to do with it!


	10. Toxic

A/N: Sorry guys! I got caught up over the summer and didn't have time to continue when the school year started. I'm picking this up again, not to worry. I know the relationship between Luna and Oliver is going really slow but this'll seem more realistic. I don't want them to jump into anything. Ch. 11 is almost done so you won't have to wait so long for that. That chapter will probably satisfy you the most since it'll explain why Oliver is being such a jerk. Thanks for your patience. Read it. Love it. Review it!

Ch.10 Toxic

That Emma Weiferson is going to get it! I swear if it's the last thing I do. She thinks she's so smart and cunning doing these stupid things behind my back. But it's going to take more than that to beat me.

Many hours had passed since that awful hour of quidditch. I was sitting in the Great Hall waiting for dinner to commence. Chatter and the impatient clattering of silverware rang in the merry room. At least everyone else was having a good time.

Out of no where I feel a hand clamp down on my shoulder. My heart practically jumps out of my ribcage. I look up to find Ginny Weasley grinning down at me.

"Why are you so jumpy?" She sits down beside me.

I look away, avoiding her gaze. "You just startled me, that's all."

"Is something wrong?" Ginny asks, concern marring her face.

She really is a nice girl with a big heart. No wonder she's so popular. All the boys like her. First it's Michael Corner, then Dean Thomas. I wonder when Wood will be the next one.

Oh, stop thinking about him! It's not like I'm jealous.

"Luna? Are you alright?"

I snap back to reality. "I'm fine." My eyes wander over to the teachers' table and see Professor Wood smiling at someone at our table. I look to catch Weiferson mouthing something to him.

That slut! Does she not know how to spell the word 'embarrassing'! Everyone can see that they're flirting with each other. If they sit any closer, they'll be playing footsies!

"Are you sure you're fine, Luna? You're turning quite red." Ginny places a comforting hand on my arm. She turns her head in the direction I'm looking at.

"I just choked on the juice." I motion carelessly at my goblet, still watching the two of them playing 'Guess what I'm saying with these sexy lips?'

Ginny turns back to me with an evil grin on her face.

"What?" I ask innocently.

"Does your little choking problem have anything to do with Mr. Oliver Wood by any chance?" She nudges my arm.

I feel my face redden further. "No!" I answer a bit too quickly.

She raises her eyebrows skeptically. "Emma and Oliver huh?"

"Their business is none of mine." I say with finality. I take one last bite of my roast beef and storm off, ignoring Ginny's frantic calls.

Why does everything have to be about him! Why can't I last one day without hearing his name? Why am I so pathetic? Why, why, why? It is just a guy. I don't understand how one man can change everything. I just burn up at the thought of me, losing my cool, over some stupid boy. Well, I suppose just the stupid boy part. I hate the fact that I'm just like all the other girls. Sadly, like Weiferson too, except I wouldn't sink as low as her. That would be too sad.

As I settle down in a comfortable chair in the common room with the newest edition of The Quibbler, trying to get my mind off HIM, I notice an untouched box sitting on the coffee table next to the couch. I take a closer look and find a note attached to it addressed to the house of Ravenclaw. Seeing no harm in reading it, I read it. It was from Professor Flitwick, encouraging us to work harder in the year. Inside the box were layers after layers of hazelnut chocolates.

Curiously thinking about his reason for his generosity, I quickly realize that in avoiding Ginny, I had neglected my stomach at dinner. I'm sure it won't hurt if I ate just a few. I am a Ravenclaw. Carefully making sure my fingers don't touch any other piece, I take out a heart-shaped one. Before I knew it, I ate one whole layer. As I reach out to start a new layer, a soft rumble starts in my stomach. I rush upstairs to the girls' bathroom, staying there until the wee hours into night.

"Luna, wake up! You're going to be late for Muggle Studies." Someone pull back my covers.

I groan as I feel a rush of cold wind embrace me. "Give it back," I grumble while snatching blindly at the air.

"You're going to miss breakfast if you don't wake up this instant!" the voice persists.

"I'm not hungry. I don't feel well." I roll over onto my stomach. A warm hand reaches for my forehead.

"You're burning up!" The girl feels my clothes and exclaims, "You're all sweaty! I have to bring you to Madame Pomfrey."

"No, not her. Just leave me alone." I insist.

"No! Wingardium Leviosa!"

I feel the warmth of my bed leave when I rise into the air. "Stop it! It's so cold," I complain.

"Don't worry, you'll thank me later."

Soon, I find myself in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey hovering over me. "Have you been outside without any covering at all like Wood?" she interrogates.

My stomach lurches at the mention of his name. "No," I manage to say.

"Tell me what you ate yesterday." Madame Pomfrey feels for my pulse on my wrist.

"Just what they serve at breakfast, lunch, dinner and chocolates as dessert," I add when I remember.

Madame Pomfrey furrows her eyebrows. "Chocolates? Did you buy them yourself? Where?"

"I found them on a table in the common room. They were from Professor Flitwick." I reply with much effort.

"Child, you mustn't eat something that you don't know the origin of. Especially when it's left on a random table." She lectures.

"But they were from a professor." I counter.

"Ever heard of an imposter?" Madame Pomfrey raises a brow at me.

I groan and sink lower in my bed. Why am I the unlucky one to find the chocolates? Who would want to poison anyone? A Ravenclaw must have done it because only they'll know the password to the common room. However, a person with authority, or money for that matter, can bribe any student. That doesn't shrink the possibilities any more.

Then, a candidate rises in my head and I shudder at the thought of the culprit being him. Wood wouldn't go so far as to hurting me. I don't think. What did I do to him? How does he benefit from this?

"Lovegood, you'll be out by lunchtime. Right now, I'll go fetch you some breakfast to go with your medication. Rest." She advises and disappears out the door.

Lunchtime. This means I miss quidditch for today. That isn't exactly a lost I have to say. Perhaps Wood did this so I wouldn't embarrass him in class again. Yes, of course! After what I said to him yesterday in front of the whole class, he got me sick so I won't show up today and make a bigger scene. Well, he won't be disappointed when I don't come to his detention tomorrow.

Madame Pomfrey left me after serving me my breakfast and potion. I wouldn't say it was a good mixture. The blue liquid was taking effect when my eyelids grew heavy and fell closed before I could protest.


	11. TwoFaced Wood

A/N: Sorry guys! I was away for Christmas and before that my computer didn't work. During that time, I was working on 'Love of His Glory' on my dad's laptop (btw, finished ch. 2). Lucky for you, my computer works now that I'm back. I apologize for the delay. Tinas74, don't lose interest! It'll get better, I promise! You'll like chapter 13. Be patient and REVIEW then chapter 14 will be on before you know it.

The lunch bell sang at 12:15 and I was allowed to leave for the Great Hall. I sit down at the long table, setting my book bag down next to me, and begin picking cautiously at my food. Who knows what Wood could've done to it?

Ginny and Isabelle, the girl who brought me into the infirmary, take a seat across from me.

"So?" Isabelle looks at me expectantly.

"What?" I ask, clearly confused.

"Where's my praise and song of gratitude?" she looks at me hurt.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, thank you, Isabelle. I don't know what I would've done without you." I place a neatly cut ham and cheese sandwich on her plate. "Here's a little something from me."

Isabelle grins. "That's more like it." She picks it up and takes a large bite.

"Well, I better get back to my table," Ginny starts, "I was worried about you this morning when Izzy told me you were sick. I thought it somehow might be connected to what we were talking about last night, seeing you were so ticked off. But now that I know you're ok, I have to go back. If they keep catching me coming over here, I might get kicked out of Gryffindor," she jokes, "see you in Herbology." She gives a final wave before seating herself next to Dean at their table.

"What is she talking about? What happened last night?" Isabelle leans in nosily.

"Nothing," I reply while spooning up my onion soup.

"Stop denying and fill me in!" She stops my arm.

Just when I was about to tell her off, a tall shadow looms up behind me.

Isabelle looks up and greets, "Good afternoon, Professor Wood."

Oh crap, I'm trapped. I can't just ignore a superior and continue drinking my soup. Reluctantly, I lift my head and say Professor without turning to face him.

"Would you like to step aside with me?" Wood asks sternly.

"What is so important about what you have to say that my trusted fellow housemates cannot listen in on?" I finally look him in the eyes.

"Your embarrassment," he muttered. "Why weren't you in class today?" his voice suddenly booms.

Half the Ravenclaw table stops and turns to look at us.

He was the one who made me incapable of going to class. Why is he asking such a pointless question? I clear my throat confidently and say, "What is it by you? Wouldn't your class be a whole lot more pleasant without me anyway?"

Isabelle looks at me as if I grew a third eye. She nudges my foot with hers. "What are you doing?" she mouths silently.

"I have attendance to take," Wood says a- matter-of-factly. "Perhaps you should be a tad more responsible."

I shoot up out of my seat, ready to accuse him of poisoning a student let alone be responsible for it but Isabelle interrupts. "She was sick. I was the one who brought her to the Hospital Wing."

"Really?" He eyes her sardonically then looks back at me. "Miss Lovegood, do you honestly need to have someone else make excuses for you?"

I look at him, disbelieving. I can barely hold the pent up anger in me. How can someone change so much over the course of one night? "So what," I retort. "I didn't come because I didn't feel like it. Simple as that." It was quite true.

"Keep this up, Lovegood, and I'll have to extend your detention to a week!" he warns.

His threat went in one ear and left out the other. "Extend all you like. I'll probably find another person to make an excuse for me to skip that too." I sneer at him before I stalk off.

Behind, I hear Isabelle desperately trying to save me. "She really was ill. You can ask Madame Pomfrey herself!"

I didn't care anymore whether he believed me or not. He was just another one of those lousy teachers. He's worse than Snape. At least Snape has a reason to be miserable since he's hated by everyone except the Slytherins.

As I exit the Great Hall, I catch Weiferson smirking at me. I continue on and trudge up the stairs to my common room as my mind roam through the past week I've spent with Oliver Wood. Thought I hate to admit it, I couldn't stop thinking about why he was acting so strangely. One night, he tries to kiss me and confess his love for me and the next he blows up in my face. Clearly this man's purpose at Hogwarts this year was to ruin my life. Or maybe that was someone else's job.

"Lovegood!"

I stop at the sound of the familiar voice. "How did you like it?" I swirl around to face the owner of the voice.

"I have to admit your skill for pissing Oliver off is starting to impress me." Emma Weiferson steps up in level with me on the stairs. "Must be so easy for you." She looks at me calmly while crossing her arms in front of her chest, but her eyes deceive her glee.

"It seems to me that it's even easier for you to sicken me with your whorish acts." I say just as calmly.

Weiferson's calm façade twist up in anger. "How dare you! You have no right to call me…that!" She points at me with her index finger.

"But yet you are more than eager to throw yourself at his feet." I cock my head to the side casually.

"Don't screw with me!" she bursts out and pushes me.

Unfortunately, the landing wasn't until a few steps up. My heel catch onto the stair and I sprawl down across the floor. I feel my spine connect hard with the steps.

"Luna!"

I look down the stairs and see Wood rushing up. He helps me up and once I was steady on my feet, I pull away.

"Weiferson, report to Mr. Filch for detention." He said, not looking at her.

"But Oliver—"

"Now!" he declares louder.

As I watch Weiferson race down towards the dungeons with tears streaming down her face, I felt more hatred towards Wood than satisfaction that Emma's dolorous. Without another word, I turn to continue my way up to Ravenclaw's common room like nothing happened, but with every step, pain shot up my spine.

"Wait," Wood grips my arm.


	12. Christmas Shopping

A/N: I am so sorry. Honestly, I don't know what else to say. So to make it up to you guys, I made this chapter extra long. It doesn't mean I wrote useless things to make it longer. It just means I squished two chapters into one. Therefore, if I take a while longer for the next chap, I have an excuse. Without further adue, here's your next chapter. Enjoy! And if you enjoyed it, review!

"Are you alright?"

"Wouldn't you rather add another hour of detention for starting a fight than to care about me?" I swing off his arm and say without stopping.

"I didn't mean to," Wood starts.

"You mean the part about giving me detention or being a jerk?" I interrupt him, and slowly turn to face him. "You're pathetic, you know that? Just stop your games. I don't want to play anymore." Oddly, I wait for his reply.

"I am pathetic," he admits. "I come up with the dumbest ideas. I thought maybe if I was harder on you, I'd be able to get over you." He shrugs. "But then I saw how miserable you were and I knew it was a mistake."

I look around innocently. "I was not miserable!"

A grin breaks out on his face. "Alright, you weren't miserable."

"And what's the meaning between you and Weiferson? Seems like you guys have more than quidditch on your minds." I look at him suspiciously.

"She asked for an extra tutorial lesson after classes. She's really looking forward to joining Ravenclaw's team." Wood explains, and then stops. "Why do you care?"

I lick my lips nervously. "No, I don't care. You just seem to really be on her side all the time. I was only wondering."

"Like I said, I was trying to, let's say, piss you off. I know you and Emma aren't exactly best friends so I thought if I was extra lenient on her, you'd…you know," he trails off.

"Lenient? That would be an understatement." I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I've noticed how my lenience has been bothering you," he chuckles softly.

I glare at him. "That's not the point."

Once I notice that he didn't have anything to say and I have nothing to add, silence fall between us and soon turns uncomfortable. I try hard to think of something to say and then it hit me. "What did you mean by that bit when you said you'd get over me?"

Wood seems surprised by my question. "I thought girls were prone to these things. Aren't you guys super sensitive?"

My eyes thin to slits. "Are you stereotyping me?"

Wood's eyes widen. "God, no!" He reaches out to hold the banister. "Why is that every time I say something you find a way to turn it against me?"

I shrug. "That's just how it is between us. There are never-ending arguments."

Wood sighs. "Well, then I'll just have to live with it because unfortunately for me, I like you more than a teacher's supposed to like a student." He bites his lower lip awkwardly.

My eyes grow to dinner plates. I suddenly become highly alert at how much heat was flowing from my body to his and vice versa and it feels very intimidating. The palms of my hands begin to sweat. I feel my throat run dry and spiders crawling up my back. I feel like I'm seeing the boy before me in a totally different light. How could this human being actually fancy me? How could any human being?

Once my nerves calmed a bit, I desperately try to think of something to say.

"I know this isn't exactly the right time to ask for an answer, but I was hoping maybe you could give me one anyway." He looks into my eyes patiently.

"An answer?" I raise my eyebrows, clearly confused.

Faintly, but surely, Wood's cheeks begin to tint pink. He clears his throat uncertainly and says, "It's late now. Best be going to bed. I'll see you in detention." He turns away and hurries down the staircase to his office.

What just happened? I literally wanted to look around and ask someone. He wanted an answer but then he leaves. Even more mind-blowing is that he didn't even ask a question! How can I give him an answer!

Trying hard not to wince, I continue on my way to the common room. And to think I couldn't be in worse a state. I was only mad and frustrated a while ago, and now I'm mad, frustrated, and confused! He likes me though. That I know for sure. Yet why would he try to poison me then? Perhaps there is the slightest chance that the charmed chocolates aren't sent by him, or even meant for me. Then who?

I mean Wood is a pretty decent guy. Well, maybe a bit better than decent, minus the ever-changing demeanor. He probably has tons of ex-girlfriends, added that they're better than decent too. Did he simply get bored with his flawless girlfriends and decided to mess around with an imperfect one? If that is the case, he might as well walk around with my shoe up his arse for the rest of his life. If it's not… What am I going to do? I can't be seen around school hand in hand with Oliver Wood. I'll be expelled and he would be sacked. I don't want to be in the center of a scandal. I belong in the sidelines, where no one can see me. Having a spotlight like Wood put on me would be suicide. I'll just have to deal with the teasing ten fold. I can't have my life changed just for him. Whether his feelings are genuine or not, I won't let it get to my head. It won't get to my head because I don't even like him!

I smile for the first time in a long while. Oliver Wood will no longer be a stress for me. I refuse to let him be. I can stop thinking about him now. With a satisfied sigh, I readjust my book bag strap and change my mind to go to the library to do some research for homework.

It didn't work! I spent the entire night trying not to think about Wood but that just made me think about him. The image of him telling me he liked me kept popping up in my head. Why? Now that I was sleep-derived, nothing felt good sitting in my stomach so I skipped breakfast to get back some hours of rest but that didn't work either. I finally get a break in the week and this is how I spend it. I have detention with him tonight too. Life has taken a turn for the worse ever since I met Wood. What can I possibly do to take my mind off of him?

Grumpily, I climb out of bed and prepare for the day. Certainly, lying in bed would not help my troubles. Getting up, I feel the chill of the air seep through my nightgown. I tiptoe to the fireplace, allowing the least amount of my feet to touch the ice-cold stone floor. I reach out and warm my hands as the fire cackle lively. Looking around, I realize the other girls had left for the day already.

As I enter the Entrance Hall, I see a crowd of students hovering around the Great Oak Doors. Within the group, a small red head comes bobbing out of them. It was Ginny.

"Morning, Luna!"

I return her greeting after I reach her.

"Are you going on the Hogsmeade trip? We're just about to leave." Ginny looks at me excitedly.

"Oh, so this is what it's about. Hogsmeade is today." I survey the crowd.

"You coming? I'm hanging out with Dean but we can meet up later at the Three Broomsticks," she asks again.

I sigh, "Why not?"

Ginny smiles. "Great, catch you later!" She turns and rejoins her group of Gryffindors.

Glad that Ginny didn't offer to have me join them, I follow the student body out the doors. She knows I'd rather be alone. That's how it is, and that's how I like it.

After buying all the Christmas gifts for this year (which isn't a lot since I'm only close enough to one other person other than my dad to buy them a gift), I begin my trek to the Three Broomsticks. I pull my blue and silver cloak tighter around me and scan the grounds for the pub. Oddly, I see someone that I don't exactly want to. That person was inside a gift store paying for something they bought. Exiting the boutique, I catch a glimpse of a light pink box, half the size of my hand, with a white, sparkly ribbon tied around it. Before I could take a closer look, the owner notices my curious stare. Wood gave me an embarrassed smile, hid the present behind his back, and dashed off down the street. My brow knit in confusion as my eyes follow him out of sight. Looking up, I search for the shop's name.

Gifts and Galore for All.

He's probably just getting a gift for one of his multiple perfect girlfriends. Why was he embarrassed anyway? I know! He was caught in the act! He told me just yesterday that he likes me and now I see him buying a gift for another girl. I knew he was too good to be true. That git tricked me! He possibly could've just wanted to get me into his bed! "They usually just jump into my bed." So that's what he meant. Not that the girls are willing to jump in, but because he probably drugs them.

I push into the bar angrily and let the door swing loudly back into its position. Who does he think he is, fooling around with girls' minds?

I was too busy yelling at him in my mind that I didn't realize I was still standing in the doorway, blocking others from entering. Apologizing to them, I hurry into the parlour to find Ginny. It turns out to be harder than I thought to find a person. The place is covered with Hogwarts students. A group of Hufflepuffs is huddled at a table near the window. Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and another friend of theirs sit at the bar. Next to them was Ginny, crowded with her bags of purchases.

"Hello," I say, plopping down in an empty seat at her table.

"Luna, I've been waiting for you!" She looks up from what she was doing. "One butterbeer!" she shouts to Madame Rosmerta. "What you got there?" she gazes into the two bags I put down.

"Just some parchment and ink I ran out of," I lie, partially.

"Oh," Ginny comments, a little downcast after hearing my answer.

"What did you buy?" I start peeking through her bags.

"Just a little something," answers she, tearing the bag I was going through from me.

I glare suspiciously at her while Madame Rosmerta places a mug of yellow liquid in front of me. "Thank you," I say and gratefully take the cup into my hands. I ask Ginny, "Where's Dean?"

A bell tinkles, signaling a new customer.

"He's at Zonko's Joke Shop with the boys. They never get tired of those immature rubbish." Ginny rolls her eyes and continues, "Just like how Fred and George are, except they're worse. They're turning it into a profession. Have you seen their shop in Diagon Alley?"

I laugh. "I think everyone heard their advertisement last year when they flew out of school in the middle of the year on their brooms."

She chuckles, "That was exceptional. Should've seen the look on Umbridge's face." She makes eye contact with someone behind me and waves.

I turn to see Oliver Wood sitting down on a stool next to Alicia. "Hey Ginny," he waves back. He notices me, whispers an inaudible hello and turns away quickly.

I do the same and busy myself with my drink. Ginny looks between the both of us and slowly, a mischievous smile grow on her lips.

I do not like that look.

"So Oliver, are you going to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party?" Ginny chimes.

I do not like that look at all.


	13. The Matchmaker

Ginny is a great friend without a doubt. Her intentions are understandable but sometimes I just want to strangle her.

"I'm considered a professor. You do realize that, don't you? Who'd want to invite me?" Wood shrugs.

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Nonsense. Who here actually sees and treats you as a superior, really?" She gestures to his seventh year friends.

"Thanks," he replies sarcastically.

"See?" Ginny darts her eyes over in my direction. "So are you going to go?" she presses on. "You need a date too."

I can slap her right now.

"Why would you need a date? It's just a gathering. Plus, Slughorn's just a colleague. I'll just drop by," he waves off.

"No, you can't!" Ginny shouts a bit too loud.

Wood looks startled. "Why not?"

Ginny reddens at her outburst. "I mean it's Christmas! Who wants to celebrate Christmas alone?" She laughs awkwardly.

He looks at her confused. "You guys are going. I won't be alone."

"It wouldn't be the same. Christmas is a special occasion where you have to spend it with a special someone." Ginny grins cheekily. "Besides, we all have dates. You'd be left out at the party."

Alicia looks up at that. "We do?"

Ginny's face stiffens. "Yes," she forces out, "we do." She takes a quick gulp of her drink to moisten her dry throat from all the persuading. "And Luna's going too!"

Wood's ear perks up. Trying hard not to notice, I deny, "Who said I'm going? I don't even know Professor Slughorn that well."

"I do," sighs Ginny, clearly annoyed, "and I say you're going."

I open my mouth to object, but close it again after seeing Ginny's glare of daggers. Who is she to make decisions for me!

"So it's settled then! You are both going. Since you both don't have dates yet, you could maybe go— Ow!"

Enough is enough. I had kicked her shin underneath the table.

She gives me a look that could kill but I ignore her and take a sip of my drink. Looking over at Wood, I see that he has noticed our exchange.

He looks away, embarrassed. Desperate to break the awkward silence, he says, "So when's the party?"

"A week before the holidays!" Ginny quickly replies. "That only gives you a few days to find a girl who'd go with you. It wouldn't be hard if you already had someone in mind." She smiles sweetly, yet I know how much evil is behind that set of teeth. "Just pick up the courage and ask her! I know she'll say yes."

If only I had enough strength to Avada Kedavra her…

Wood furrows his brow. "How would you know?"

"Come on, Oliver," Alicia speaks for the first time after a while, "you know the girls in this school whose laid eyes on you would die to be your date to the party."

Everyone laughs at the comment except me. Because it is true. The whole female population of the school would die to be his date for one night. If he had the whole female population to choose from, it would make sense to choose the prettiest girl which means it wouldn't be me. Well, like that mattered. It's not like I was going to listen to Ginny and actually go.

Not realizing I had zoned out of the conversation, I quickly recollect my thoughts and turn my attention back to the group. Unconsciously, my eyes land on a certain someone. Unfortunately, or fortunately for some matchmakers, that certain someone is looking at me too. He seems to be calculating what I was thinking about. Not wanting him to figure out, I dart my eyes elsewhere.

"Oliver wouldn't just pick any random girl. He'd want to celebrate this once a year festivity with someone he'd cherish the memory with," Ginny grins and wags her eyebrows suggestively.

Seems like I barely left the conversation.

Wood clears his throat loudly and turns his back towards us on his stool.

"What are you playing at?" I mouth angrily to her.

"I see the chemistry between you two. All you need is a sprinkle of catalyst and you'll be on your way towards a fairytale." Ginny closes her eyes and waves her arms dramatically in the air.

"Cut that out!" I slap her hands down. "The next time you start sprinkling, you'd be hoping your fairytale is having your organs intact!" I whisper hoarsely in a threatening manner.

Ginny puts her hands up in surrender mode. "Alright, I get the idea."

I gulp down half of my drink and slam it down on the table, spilling another quarter of my butterbeer. "There is no chemistry," I continue quietly. "If there is anything, it's dislike, annoyance, and frustration." I number them on my fingers.

"Whoa," Ginny looks taken aback. "Which nerve did he strike?"

"All of them," I grumble. I turn to glare at his back.

"Luna, tell me what happened with Oliver," she asks, now concerned. "Maybe I can help."

"Trust me, Ginny, you've helped enough." I look seriously into her eyes.

She blushes at her efforts. "Sorry. I just want you to know that I'm here if you need me." She places a comforting hand on mine.

I offer a smile back and drink what's left in my mug.

Crossing her arms, Ginny looks at me determined and says, "Date or no date, you're going to that party and you're going to have some fun!" Dumping a few sickles onto the table, she grabs her bags and my hand and head for the door, but not before I had a hold on my purchases. "Come on, we're getting you a dress robe."

After dinner, I head to Wood's office for my detention that night. I pull my dirty blonde hair back into a low ponytail and tuck my wand behind my ear for safekeeping, ready for some dirty work. I raise my hand and knock on his door twice.

"Come in," I hear from within.

I push open the door to find him sewing behind his desk. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," he exclaims, seemingly just realizing I was the guest. "Nothing," he says as he scrambles to cover up his handiwork.

"That's some really bad mending you've got there." I tease as I spy the fray ends on the black dress robes he was working on.

"I am a man," he defends.

"So you're saying that men don't sew? My dad was the one who taught me how to," I reason. I walk to him and pick up the robe, examining it. "What were you trying to do to it? Mutilate it?" I ask in disgust.

"I happen to be lengthening it as I have grown out of it." He explains as he snatches it away from me.

"You don't lengthen a robe by adding an extra bit of fabric of a different shade of colour to the end of it."

Wood's face reddens. "It's a different colour? It looks the same to me."

I roll my eyes and snatch back the robe. "Men," I grumble as I rip the extra length of cloth.

"Hey," he protests, horrified, "I skipped dinner to do that!"

"You see this bit sewn onto the inner side? You're supposed to release that to lengthen it." I shake out the robe to straighten it. "Stand up," I instruct and he abides.

I bring the robe up against his body and see that it just reaches his shin. I flip the end over and estimate if it would be enough. "Why don't you just buy a new dress robe?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "I spent most of my savings already."

"On what?" I ask as I sit down and start taking out the stitches with a seam ripper.

"Just…stuff," he struggles.

"Maybe you should save it for something useful rather than just stuff. Anyway, why do you need the robe now?"

"I'm going to the Christmas party, remember?" He sits down on top of the desk and observes me while I work.

"Oh," I hesitate a bit but continue.

"Aren't you going?" He starts fiddling with his sleeves.

"I don't know. Ginny is kind of making me go." I say without thinking. Great, now I have to go since I told him I am.

"Since we're both going, do you want to go to—"

"Done!" I jump up. My heart pounds inside me. I knew what he was going to say. I just couldn't stand to actually hear him say it out loud. I toss the robe into his arms. "I did you a favour. I think that makes up for the detention." I start to head for the door.

"Stop!"

I ignore him and keep walking. Wood catches up and stops right in front of me.

"Why is it that every time I start talking about us you avoid me?" He looks at me slightly ticked off.

"Because there is no 'us'!" I gesture between us. "Besides, you were the one who left last time."

"I have my dignity, you know," his voice raises a bit.

"And I don't?" I raise mine to match his.

"I practically bent down on one knee to ask you to go out with me but –oh, no- you had to play the dumb and naïve girl and humiliate me!"

"I'm dumb and naïve! Look who's talking!"

"Oh, yes! I'm dumb and naïve because I like you!"

Gosh, he actually said it. "Well," I stumble, "no one asked you to."

He gapes at me then starts to laugh despite himself. "That's a first, that one. Is that how you reject all the guys who ever cared about you?"

"No," I say loudly. Because you're the first, I think to myself.

"I get it now then. You're afraid." He stares down at me as if challenging me.

"I am not afraid!" I draw up to my full height, which reaches just under his chin.

"Then go to the party with me." The corners of his mouth tweak up in a small, devious smile.

I bite down on the inside of my lip. A war rages inside me between what I wanted and what was right. Why does this seem more difficult to me than it actually is? It's just a stupid party for goodness' sake. It won't mean anything if I do choose to go with him. Right? Still, I keep my mouth shut.

"I knew you were afraid." He sneered.

"I am not," I say defiantly.

"Prove it," says he, taking a step towards me and closing the distance between us to a mere centimeter.

I gulp as the temperature in the room rise. I look down, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

Placing his fingertips underneath my chin, he tilts my head up, forcing me to look him in the eye, our noses nearly touching. My breathing grows heavy. "Say it," he whispers. "Say you're not afraid and I'll kiss you."

I knew this was going to happen. I knew, ever since he tried to kiss me in the change rooms, that he was going to attempt it again, and that attempt would succeed. People say that if you know your future, you could change its course. That night, I don't know why I didn't change mine.


	14. Fearless

"I am not afraid."

Honestly, at this point, I'm not thinking about consequences. I just want to prove to him that he doesn't scare me. He doesn't intimidate me. He has no effect on me whatsoever. But perhaps I should rethink my response, because I didn't think he would actually kiss me.

I suppose he does have an effect on me, a rather strong one.

Once I had closed my mouth after speaking, he came in for the kiss. As his lips touch mine, I feel the heat flow from his body throughout mine. At one point, the heat was so overwhelming that I thought I would faint, but subconsciously, I was holding onto his arms while he supported me with his.

I don't think I noticed that we were connected at the mouth until he kissed me again. Wood's lips were so… I don't do this often, describing how someone's lips feel on mine. Yet, somehow I feel obligated. He is so gentle! It's crazy to think that he can be so rough and tough on the field, yet when it comes to girls, he's totally whipped.

Not thinking, I respond to his kiss and instantly he pulls me closer and deepens the kiss. God, it feels so wonderful to just free fall into him. He places his hand around my neck, knocking my wand out of its place behind my ear. Thoughts of a fairytale ending run through my mind and it hits me like an anvil.

What am I doing? Or should I say what have I done? I hesitate and Wood pulls back, looking at me concerned. "We can't do this," I whisper to myself softly.

"Why not?" Confusion grips his eyes.

"It's wrong," I say, a little breathless. "You're professor for Christ's sake! This is all wrong. This can't happen between us." I'm not sure if I was trying to convince him or myself with these words.

"Who cares what other people think? You don't have to worry." His eyes turn almost pleading.

"Do you care what I think?" I look at him, offended. Not realizing it, my eyes start to water.

"As long as we like each other, there's nothing wrong with that. It's not a crime to love." He grabs my shoulders and shakes me a little, as if he was shaking some sense into me.

"I don't." I shrug off his hold and wrap my arms around myself as the atmosphere has chilled.

The plea in his eyes evaporates as pain settles in. "You never liked me?"

I don't reply him, making the answer seem obvious.

He starts to shake his head. "Liar," he accuses. "I could tell from the kiss that you feel—"

"That kiss was a lie!" I interrupt him the second time that day. "We're a lie," I say despairingly. I turn to leave and this time he doesn't stop me.

I run all the way to Ravenclaw's tower without stopping. Arriving in front of the portrait hole, the tears that were welling up in my eyes begin to fall. I wipe it away stupidly. Not wanting to face any of the other students, I find a dark corner down the hall to cry in.

Why am I crying? Crying means I'm sad, and I'm NOT sad because I just turned down THE bachelor at Hogwarts. I am NOT sad because he is the first and only boy who will ever care about me. I AM NOT SAD!

Oh bugger, I am.

Why am I so pathetic? Wood was right. I am afraid. I'm afraid to just take a chance. For once someone truly cares about me and I just push him away. I've been so immune to all emotions because of the regular teasing that I just think on instinct that everyone around me is trying to hurt me. And if they happen to actually care, I assume it's sarcasm. Maybe if Mom was still here…

Thinking of Mom makes me cry even harder. Mom would have liked him. She would be scolding me for letting such a 'nice' boy go.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to stop thinking about it. I hiccup. Collect yourself, Luna. Don't let a little emotion ruin the façade you've created all these years. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'll get over him eventually. Everything will be back to normal. I brush my bangs out of my face and stand up. I almost fell back in shock if he didn't catch me. I look up at Oliver Wood, surprised that he came after me.

Shit, he saw me sitting there bawling my eyes out like a baby. What would he think? Probably something along the lines of 'Told you so' or 'See?' "Wh-What are you doing here?" I stutter.

"You left your wand." He reaches into his robe packet and hands me a familiar wooden stick.

"Thanks," I reply awkwardly. I would expect him to say something to me after what he saw, but he stood in his place silent and unmoving. I start to shuffle away. "I should go back. It's past cur—"

"You're pathetic."

I stop in my tracks and stare at him wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He looks up from the floor at me. "You're pathetic."

I feel a wave of renewed anger wash over me. "Wait a second, you have no right to come here and say that to my face!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"Is that how you truly feel?" He steps right in front of me and glares into my eyes.

"Y-yes."

He smirks. "Well, I think it's brilliant of you to lie so well, because you and I both know what you're doing to yourself is pathetic."

I stand there blinking like an idiot, trying to take in what he was saying. "I think I should be the judge of whether what I'm doing to myself is pathetic or—"

"No, you can't because you can't see yourself right now." His smirk disappears as he wipes away a drying tear that was still clinging to my cheek.

I drop my face, ashamed. He is right and it's that much worse for him to know. Why can't I just admit my weakness and give in? Is it that hard to fall in love? I feel him walk around me then stop directly behind me.

He leans down towards my face until his cheek is brushing mine. "I am going to fight for what I want," he whispers into my ear, sending chills down my spine, "unlike you." With that said, he walks away.

I slowly turn to see his robe vanish around the corner. I stare after him. Is this regret that I'm feeling, or sorrow? Promising myself not to shed another tear for him, I walk back to the portrait hole.

If only I am as fearless as he is…


	15. Slughorn's Party

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I am truly sorry. If you want to kill me, I totally understand and will therefore allow you to. I know I'm really awful at updating as soon as possible, but…it's hard. I don't have any other explanation. You won't have the urge to strangle me any further as this story is coming to an end. It shouldn't take any more than 2 chapters…hopefully. I hope this is a good enough Christmas and New Year's gift for you readers. Have a safe and happy new beginning to a new year! Dec. 31, 2006 11:53 pm

"Why is he so stupid?!" Hermione Granger shouts in tears.

I don't know how I got to comfort one of the school's smartest prefects, but I am doing it in the bathroom nonetheless. Ironic how I find our roles should be reversed based on recent events. "I'm sure whoever you're talking about will apologize." I pat her back awkwardly.

"All he cares about his pride and quidditch!" she continues to moan.

I wince at the sound of the word. "That always seems to stir things up. Perhaps if you talked to him—"

"Ha!" she hoots. "Talk to Ron? I might as well talk to a badger with the likes of him!" Hermione stomps the floor to emphasize.

So she's mad at Ron Weasley. "Well, it's no good crying over a badger like him. He's not going to know." My mind flashes back to a few days ago. How hypocritical of me.

"You're right!" She sniffs and wipes the snot away from her face with her sleeve. "I have to show him that he is nothing to me. I'll act as if he were an invisible badger!" She almost smiles triumphantly. Almost.

"That's the spirit!" I give her another quick pat. Funny how things never work out when we lie to ourselves. "Come on. Let's go to lunch." I pull her by the elbow away from the sink.

Outside, we see Harry Potter, the famous lightening-scarred boy who escaped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's evil death spell. Of course, he's always been one that I've admired. I suppose it's because he's the only one who cares about me other than Ginny… aside from the second He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named person. I also suppose it's okay for him to wear his eyebrows whatever colour he wants since he's famous. "Oh, hello, Harry," I say. "Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?"

He acknowledges me but ignores my question. I also suppose it's okay for a famous person to ignore someone once in a while. I mean we are talking about me. Who doesn't ignore me?

"Hermione, you left your stuff…" He goes on to give her back her books.

She grabs it quickly and offers a soft thank you and leaves without another word to one of her best friends.

As we watch her scamper off, I say, "She's a bit upset. She said something about that Ron Weasley…" I stop, hoping I haven't cross any line.

"Yeah, they've had a row," he explains.

I nod in understanding and we turn to walk down the hall together. "He can be a bit rude. I noticed last year." Oops, that could've been the line back there.

Harry adjusts his collar, a clear sign of unease. "I suppose." He pauses, and then says, "How was your term?"

Oh no, here comes the small talk. "It's been alright." My mind lurks to the images of the second He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and I quickly stop myself. A bit lonely without the DA." I am speaking the truth. "Ginny's been nice, though." All truth and nothing but the truth. Of course, avoiding a bit here and there.

"How would you like to come to the Slughorn's party with me tonight?"

I stop dead in my tracks and look at him like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. "Slughorn's party? With you?"

"Yeah," Harry continues. "We're supposed to bring guests…"

I tune him out, as I already know these tiny details. I haven't exactly declined Ginny's insistence on me going so I expect her to expect me to be there. She's also bought me a dress robe for the occasion and I can't let it go to waste. Also, a certain He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knows I'm going. If he's there and he sees me with Harry, for sure he'll know that I don't like him at all. Hopefully, he'll even completely give up on the 'I'm going to fight for what I want' thing at the sight of me with another boy. That's brilliant! This might just work out the way I want it to.

"But if you don't want to…"

I tune back in just in time. "Oh, no, I'd love to go with you as friends!" I beam. This is too exciting. "Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend!" Technically, that is true. "Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine, too?" Cleary, the excitement is taking over the functions of my brain.

"No," he answers firmly.

Darn, I know that sounded stupid.

"I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at eight o'clock then." Harry confirms.

I am so immersed in envisioning the events of tonight unfolding before me that I couldn't even hear Peeves, our school's annoying poltergeist, announcing our 'date' to the entire school.

I cannot believe I let Ginny get me into this. I look ridiculous… Not that I don't the rest of the time, but this time I didn't choose to wear this. I look like an actual silver bell in this hideous gray robe. It's clear what other people are thinking as they don't even consider muffling their chuckles. They are all here to see Harry pick up his 'mystery' date. I stand tall, trying hard to seem as if they all don't matter.

Soon, I see Harry approach me coming down the stairs. He gives me a once over and, what I hope, seems satisfied. "Let's get going then," he says after greeting me.

"Where's the party?"

"At Slughorn's office," he replies. We walk up the marble staircase together, chatting about vampires. It's him who brought it up.

Once we arrive, I can't help but scan the vast room, which is obviously bewitched to look so big, for the second You-Know-Who. It's hard at first because of the mass amount of people, the distraction of the amazing decorations of emerald, crimson, and gold, and the breathtaking sea of fairies swarming over our heads, but I soon spot him at the far right wall talking with a bunch of seniors I don't recognize. My attention is dragged away when the host approaches Harry.

My mind drifts away from the conversation as I once again start searching the room. This time, it's for Ginny. I catch a glimpse of her through the throng of people and I frantically start waving, trying to grasp her attention. I don't get her attention; instead, I whack a couple of people around me. I look apologetically at them and begin to search again. Before I can start waving again, Harry pulls me away. Though feeling a bit manhandled, I grumpily follow. I notice we are nearing the right wall.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

Oh no, here we go.

I stand by idly as the two gab about Hermione's attempt at making Ron jealous. I swivel around, hunting for the familiar face of the second You-Know-Who. I don't have to look for long as he is standing only a few feet away. I quickly turn my back to him, hoping he hasn't caught me looking. I slowly turn, looking from the corner of my eye, pushing my hair forward to cover my face. He doesn't seem to notice anyone around him except for the person he's talking to: Professor McGonagall. They seem really immersed in their conversation, almost too serious for a Christmas party.

And then he's gone. Without even a look around, he sweeps right past me, brushing my elbow (that's how close he is), and exits the room. My eyes tag after him all the way to the door, aching for him to turn around and see me. But he doesn't. I stand there staring after him. Why did he leave in such a hurry? What did he say to McGonagall? And the most important question: does this or should this matter to me at all?

I come to the party he wanted me to go to and he leaves without even saying Happy Christmas. Is this what I get for showing up? I get ignored? Well, I can't stand for that! Whether it should matter or not, I don't go through misery to be ignored. I decide to ask McGonagall.

I find her at the drinks table, swirling the ladle around the punch bowl. "Excuse me, Professor?"

She doesn't seem to hear me. I try again louder but once again it doesn't work. I lightly tap her shoulder and this time, she snaps out of her trance. "Oh," she says, startled.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologize. I'm about to launch into interrogation but her expression stops me. "Is something wrong?" What on earth did Wood say to her?

She looks down into my eyes. Her face doesn't seem to register anything I've said to her. "It's all so sudden," she mumbles softly.

I wait for her to explain but she doesn't. "What is so sudden? Tell me." I know I sound pushy, even towards a teacher, but she's starting to worry me.

Her expression is conflicted, as if she is contemplating whether or not to tell me. She straightens her back, like she's pulling herself together and finally offers a weak smile. "You'll soon know." With that, she pours herself a drink and leaves me.

I stand there befuddled. I think I would've been better off if I hadn't talk to McGonagall. At least I now know Wood has pulled something out underneath her. How can something make her react so severely? I have to know.

I dismiss myself from the room unnoticed. I have to hunt him down. This has got to be cleared.


	16. Resignation

A/N: Hey guys! I finally updated! Aren't you glad? heh. Sorry, I've been so busy lately with school and graduation. Well, I have one more exam tomorrow but I'm just too tired to study anymore so I gave up and started this. Hope this is worth the wait. I should be able to finish this story by the end of summer...hopefully. If I don't, I'll be caught up with university and won't be able to write again for a long time...which would suck...for you. Just kidding. I promise I will TRY to finish this. I'm so not going to start another story right after this because I'm starting to realize you have to commit a lot to this and I just don't have the time. Anyhoo, hope you enjoy this!

I don't know how long I have been standing against that door but if anyone comes out, my face is going to smack right into that wall. So much for clearing this up. I'm too scared to even leave the warmth of the party to go look for him because I know we'll be alone. I don't trust myself with him. I don't want to have any regrets when this is all over. If it ever does that is.

Well, just standing here won't help.

Right, I nod along. Pushing myself off the wall, I brush off the wrinkles on my robe. Once and for all, I repeat in my head. Once and for all.

I am just about to turn the corner at the end of the hall when I hear Weiferson's voice.

"I just love these parties. I'm so glad you asked me to go with you." Her giddy voice is so high and fake it hurts to hear it. But the other voice hurts even more.

"I didn't. You offered to tag along."

I'd recognize that voice anywhere.

He left to go get her. What is he trying to do? Suffocate me? Because I sure feel like I can't breathe right now.

I look down the hall I'd come from. I can't make it in time back around the corner for them not to see me. I push my back hard into the wall, hoping if I push hard enough I'd vanish into it. What will I say? That I was spying on him? No, I'll tell the truth.

"Ew, you scared me," Weiferson's voice bounce down the length of the hallway. "What are you doing just standing there?"

"Why I'm here is my business," I say, trying to sound hard but Wood's presence distracts me.

"Whatever, you're the freak." She waves her hand as if swatting an annoying fly, me, away from her ear. She continues to strut down the hall towards the music floating out from Slughorn's office.

He doesn't say anything, nothing to say in my defense. But he doesn't move either. He's looking right at me, but I don't dare to make eye contact.

"ProfessorMcGonagalltoldmetolookforyou," I mumble softly. Not the complete truth, but he won't know.

"What?"

"Oliver! Aren't you coming?" Weiferson shouts down to us.

We both wince at her shrill voice. "You go ahead."

She shrugs as if she doesn't care but then glares dangerously at me.

"What did you say?" he asks again calmly.

I take a deep breath and finally pick up the courage to look up.

Dammit! I look down again. Why does his eyes make me feel so guilty? Hate him! "I said Professor McGonagall sent me to look for you."

He nods, understanding.

We both stand there silent and unmoving. Have we come to the point where we cannot speak our minds comfortably with each other anymore? Well, not like I ever did. However, he has. Oh, he has been speaking loud and clear.

"I guess we should go b—"

"Don't you want to know why?" He has got to stop interrupting me.

"Why what?"

"Why she asked you to come get me."

She didn't, you moron. But by the sound of it, he wants to tell me what he and McGonagall were discussing. I must not appear eager.

"It's not my bus—"

"I gave her notice of my resignation," he ignores my efforts of trying to appear indifferent.

I'm finally able to stare at his eyes no matter how guilty I feel because I'm too shocked to care. "What?!"

"I'm only staying until Professor Dumbledore finds a replacement," he explains with a small smile.

"This isn't funny!" I yell.

"I'm just happy you care enough to be angry." His smile slips slightly.

My eyes drop again. "I'm not angry."

Without saying anything, I know he's thinking 'Yeah, right.'

"I'm just surprised. It's so sudden."

"What were you expecting? That I keep this job and have you say 'But you're a professor and I'm a student' to me over and over again?" he mimics my voice horrendously.

I stare at him again. "You're quitting because of… because of me?"

"No, I'm resigning because Emma is getting on my nerves."

If the subject at hand weren't so somber, I would be laughing. "I thought you liked her. You were so keen on flirting with her just a while back," I challenge.

His smile pulls into a smirk. "Jealous, are we?"

"Of her?" My face scrunches up in disgust. "She'd be the last person on this planet I'd be jealous of." I turn to glare down the way she went. "I mean look at her. Her voice alone is earsplitting. She walks around like there's a wand stuck up her butt. And she holds her head so high up that if it were any thicker, she'd fall backwards!"

Wood bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. Placing both his hands on either side of my face, he leans down towards me. "Alright, you're not jealous. Just calm down."

I want to tell him that I'm perfectly calm but his eyes stop me. For the first time, I see that his hazel eyes are dotted with green specks. "You have nice eyes," I blurt out.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit!

Wood breaks into a broad grin. "Did I hear you correctly?"

I quickly pull away and back up against the wall. "No, you didn't!" God, I can feel my face burn. "I said…" Crap, what does 'you have nice eyes' sound like?

"You said what?" He doesn't drop his grin but slowly approaches me, blocking me of any escape.

"I said…" Oh God. "You have…" What?! You have what?! "Head lice."

Wood stares at me unabashedly. "That's the best you got?"

What the heck am I thinking? Head lice? I drop my own head into my hands. I'm hopeless. I'm hopelessly idiotic. Head lice! I might as well say he has herpes.

He laughs as he stretches out his arms to lean against the wall with me trapped in between. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I hear it all the time."

I lift my head to see his smug expression. Oh no, he didn't. "What? That you have head lice?" I turn and try to push his arm away to leave, but he wouldn't budge.

"No." He bends his arms to lean even closer. "You have beautiful eyes too."

I look into his eyes to see that he's genuine. My mind flashes back to the time in the equipment shed where I slipped and he caught me.

No, stop. I can't let him get to me. Before he can lean any closer, I slide down and under his arms to get out. "Wood," I protest.

He groans and lets his arms fall to his side. "Can you just…stop and think for a moment?" All humour is gone from his face now. "I know I'm not alone on this."

I struggle to get the words out. "It's wrong on so many levels. You're a professor and I'm a student."

Wood rolls his eyes at this.

"I'm only fifteen and you're twenty. That's a big difference. Can you really see us going through with this?" I look to see if I've finally gotten through to him.

"Emma seems alright with it."

My eyes grow wide. Did he really just say that? I see that he's beginning to realize what he just said. "Why don't you go make out with her then if she's okay with it? Heck, you've got the whole female population of the school who'd want to!" I scream at him. I try to run past him, but he stops me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You know that's not what I mean." He clings to my arm, begging for forgiveness. "I don't want to leave with us on bad terms."

At this, I remember what I am here for. "I just don't understand why you have to resign." I can't help but feel sad at the thought of him leaving.

Wood sighs. "Is it that hard to understand? I'm resigning so I won't be a professor at Hogwarts anymore. Then you wouldn't have an excuse to run away from me."

"Wood," I let out slowly.

He waits patiently for me to continue.

"Why are you so stupid?"


	17. Guilty as Charged

I tap my feet against the hard ground, where the last of the snowstorm from last night is melting away. Drops of water cling to each blade of grass longingly. The sun is high in the clear sky when the clock strikes noon.

My stomach grumbles in hunger. I clutch it in embarrassment. Thankfully from the number of heads turned, not a lot of people heard.

Leaning against the head of my broom, I begin to drift off into my dreams where a particular sandy haired, hazel-eyed boy doesn't exist.

"Lovegood!"

My head jerks up reflexively at the sound of my name.

Oliver Wood snaps his fingers at me then points to his eyes with his index and middle finger. "Eyes up here."

I roll my eyes once his attention is back on his lecture. Does he always have to be so professional? I muster what interest I have in quidditch and try to keep my eyes on him.

It's too hard.

Every time his eyes, mouth, arms, and chest fill my vision, I'm overwhelmed with guilt. His eyes remind me of how passionate he is in whatever he does. His mouth reminds me of how smothering his kisses are. His arms remind me of how protective of me he is. His chest, well, speaks for itself. All of this and I have done nothing except push him away. The guilt is just too much.

"Seriously, are my lectures really that bad?"

Again my head snaps up automatically. Clearing my face of a pained expression, I stumble backwards clumsily when I notice how close he is. The last thing I need is his musky scent filling my nostrils.

"Whoa, you alright there?" He reaches out for my arm but I gently pull away before he can touch me. "Did I interrupt some unspeakable fantasy of me?" He chuckles at his own joke.

I can't help but smile. "You never fail to amuse me."

He shrugs and shoves his hands into his quidditch robes' pockets, broom lying at his feet. "It's a full time job."

I look around me to find all students up in the sky, completing their warm-up routine. All students but one: Weiferson is hovering about fifty metres away, glaring murderously at me.

"I was wondering why you were talking to me like that."

Wood's expression clouds. "Like what?"

"Oh, you just have this way of talking to me during class that makes me wonder if you were some distant nephew of Snape's." I place a hand on my hip while weighting on my broom in the other hand.

His mouth widens out into a knowing smirk. "Well, I can't very well just tell them that I'm going to be lenient on you because I want you to be my girlfriend now can I?"

I blush. It's the first time he's said that word. He's made it more than clear before of what he feels towards me but this is like clear clear. Clear like water purified a hundred times clear. Really, I don't function well under such clarity.

"Well, I … You don't… I mean…"

Wood raises his hand for me to stop. "Honestly, a 'yes, you can' would've covered it perfectly."

I give him a 'you never stop, do you' look before looking away.

"Off you go then."

Confused by his words I stay unmoved.

"Having a special place in my heart doesn't mean you don't have to do the three laps. Now go!" He places his hands on his hips. His posture serious, but his face is humourous.

I let the comment slide and run off with my broom.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I look around at the students gathering their luggage in the Great Hall, getting ready to board the express home for the holidays. It's too bad Father is having such a hard time at work. A wizard had come complaining about an article they did on him he said he never consented to. Father convinced him that such a piece would bring him so much publicity to his work that the wizard finally agreed if only they would redo the entire thing from a different angle. Personally, from whatever angle I look at, the business of making permanent makeup is hopeless. And now because of his need for attention, he's holding up Father from his holidays with me. It's either spending Christmas at home alone or spending Christmas here at Hogwarts. Now of course it isn't the alone part that scares me from going home. I'm alone anyhow most of the time. It's just…

"Luna!"

I turn to smile at the pair of chocolate eyes I met. "Hullo," I greet, clutching the gift I meant to give to the owner of those eyes.

Ginny comes up to hug me, burying me in her wave of red hair. "Happy Christmas!" she beams.

I can't help but return her grin with one of my own. It's this thing she does. "Happy Christmas, Ginny." I present the present.

"You didn't!" Ginny acts surprised, taking the gift off my hands. "But I did too." She put down her trunk and opened it, retrieving a package with silver gift-wrap.

"Oh, Ginny," I overcome with joy. "No one has ever given me a gift besides my father. Thank you!" I hug the gift tightly against my chest.

"It's the least I can do." Her eyes wandered down to where my feet were. "You don't have your trunk. You're not going home?"

I shake my head, a piece of my blonde hair fall out from behind my ear. "No, I'm staying here."

Ginny pauses for a moment, then squeals! "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

I look at her shocked for a moment. "What? Is it my hair? I knew I shouldn't have bought the shampoo from the leprechaun on Third."

She looks at me as if I am crazy then continues jumping up and down and squealing. "This is perfect!"

"What's perfect?"

"Oliver is having a going away party this weekend for those few who are staying."

My heart falls into my stomach before she can even finish. They found the replacement. He'll be leaving before the end of break and I'll never see him again. "How is this perfect?"

"Don't you see?"

"No."

Ginny rolls her eyes at how slow I'm following. "This is the perfect moment for him to…"

I wait for her to finish but her squealing and jumping stops at once and changes into a more nervous kind of squirming "For him to what?"

"Nothing."

I narrow my eyes at her suspiciously. "Ginny, if it were nothing, you wouldn't have been hopping around like you sat on a hot potato."

Ginny looks offended. "I was not hopping. I was just excited because then you can put my gift to good use."

My suspicions don't go away. "Don't try to avoid the question."

"I'm not avoiding anything." Ginny puts on her innocent smile.

Just then, Argus Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker, blew a whistle signaling everyone to head onto the carriages.

Ginny grins at her chance of escape. "Best of luck, Luna." She hugs me once more and I give her my all. "And promise me this one thing."

I let go of her and look at her cautiously.

"Oh, you make me sound like an old troll trying to trick you! Please!" Ginny bats her eyelashes at me. "It's so simple and it wouldn't hurt you. It'll make me so happy and most of all, you!"

I heave a surrendering sigh and nod.

She claps triumphantly. "Just promise me you'll wear it." She picks up her trunk and starts heading out with the other students that are already filing out.

"Wear what?"

"Just wear it!" She says again before disappearing into the exiting throng.

Oh, bloody hell. Why do I have a feeling I shouldn't have promised her anything?


	18. Just You and Me

It wasn't until a week into the break, a couple days before Christmas, did I hear news of Oliver Wood's going away party. I had tried to stay away from the noise of the people who stayed behind. I took walks out by the lake, reading Daddy's magazine under the trees. I even went to visit some of the thestrals. Ironically, I found flying was the only way that I could truly get away. Thankfully I haven't bumped into Wood just yet.

Until now.

"Flying now? Without me?" Wood had his hands on his hips. Looking up at me hovering in the air with a feigned hurt expression. "I'm hurt."

I touch down and walk over to him smiling. There is an odd feeling deep in my stomach. I never notice it when I am around him but after not seeing him for nearly two weeks, I felt…overwhelmed?

I start playing with my fingers, folding them up into a single fist and then untwining them. I realize how silly I look and quickly stop, gripping my broom tightly.

"Practice makes perfect right?" I try feebly to cover up my nervousness.

Wood smirks. He grabs the broom from my hands. Tossing it between his, he says, "Since when do you ever listen to me?" He casually strides by me.

It takes me two seconds to realize that he had innocently brushed his lips across my cheek. Before I have a chance to comment, Wood hops onto the broom, holding his hand out to motion for me to do the same. His smile tells me that the kiss was not at innocent.

I let it slide because my usually sharp tongue had lost its touch. I don't know why nothing comes to mind when I know my usual self would not have consented to the kiss. Or do I now? I feel like I have let my guard down. I no longer can look at him in the eyes and be able to turn away like his deep hazels did not affect me. And the anxious feeling that I had before when I saw him… Anxious for what? Has time slowly changed me and altered my idea of being with Oliver Wood, that it has now become a possibility?

No! It can't! How have I become so weak? Wood is leaving. In a few weeks, this will all be over. I wouldn't have to put up with Weiferson's jealousy anymore. I wouldn't have to cry over him anymore. I wouldn't have to toss and turn every night, thinking how he, Oliver Wood, would pick me. Me!

"I know I'm dreamy but if you actually get on this broom, you can be that much closer to me." He tries to keep a straight face.

I don't realize he has spoken until I feel his unwavering gaze. I look at his outstretched palm. Fly with him? My stomach begins to twist into knots. Flying with him would mean that we would be really close. Close enough maybe for him to even kiss me again. Do I want that? I feel my face go red.

"You're not scared now, are you?" he taunts.

My accustomed response would have been to roll my eyes and turn away. But he's right! I can't be scared. What can I be scared of? That I may actually feel something for this bloke? Never…right? There shouldn't be anything stopping me from getting onto this broom unless I do have feelings for him. My body lurches forward as if some invisible force was controlling me. I start to climb onto the broom behind him but he stops me. Putting his arm around my waist, he pulls me in front and sits me down.

"You don't seem like yourself today."

His voice is so close. I'm almost caught off guard. "How am I not myself?" Is it so obvious that I have lost my usual restrain? Have I even come off eager? I cringe at the thought.

"Well, the lack of your witty comebacks for one." He leans forward, reaching for the handle in front of me. His chest hits my back and he doesn't adjust to allow himself more room. So that's why he put me in front of him!

"You better not let me fall." I jokingly warn, trying to collect myself. If one ever felt clumsy while talking, this is it right here.

"If you stay right here, I promise you'll be safe." His voice drops an octave lower. His breath caught a few wisps of my hair and blows it out from behind my ear.

I have a troubling feeling that his words have double meaning. I try to brush it off, doing the same with my hair.

He kicks off the ground without giving me notice and the force of the lift pushes me back into the curve of his chest. I yelp and grab the nearest object to hold on to. Conveniently, it's his arm.

"You're a real sneak, aren't you?"

He chuckles. "I just know what I want." He lets us drift slowly around the quiddtich field, weaving in and out between the stands. "You didn't say anything when I kissed you." He let it hang in the air for a while. "Does that mean—"

"No!" Oh, thank god I can get back some sense. I can feel him grin behind me and his arms tighten around my waist.

"Then I'm glad I got you this high up." He leans over my right shoulder, trying to look into my eyes. "Now you can't fight me off." His grin softens a bit but his eyes intensify.

I know what he is about to do next, but that doesn't bother me at all. I am almost offended that he would think I would fight him off. Almost. How have I softened into this mushy girl that's unable to control her forbidden desires? Wouldn't I have gotten used to dodging his attempts to seduce me? And yes, I do consider trying to persuade me into admitting that I like him seducing.

Uh oh. Did I just—?

I feel a feather light touch on my lips.

My mind snaps back to the present. My original vision of the vast green field is blocked off by a pair of smothering hazels. I find my heart pounding. Heat from my chest starts to spread out to my face and stomach or maybe it's just the heat from his body. Something was making my ears throb. Is my heart so loud that even he can hear it? He's so close… Too close. I pull my head back an inch but only end up bumping into Wood's shoulder. What have I gotten myself into?! This isn't how I plan my Christmas break! I was going to have carefree, Oliver Wood-free holiday! Now I'm stuck up in the air with no way to run. He planned this!

"I can't be—"

He cuts me off with another kiss. This time harder.

He pulls back and pauses to think. "Actually, I do like the new you that doesn't complain. Funny ol' world innit?"

I open my mouth to start again but he stops me with the tips of his fingers.

"Can you try to imagine that it's just us?"He moves his hand to push the hair out of my face."Just you and me. Nobody else."He allows his fingers to linger on my cheek, running it up and down. "Nobody to hide your feelings from. We're away from all the noise, all the jealousy."

I feel my eyes grow heavy, as if he was hypnotising me.

"It's quiet. It's calm."He runs his thumb lightly across my lower lip."It's just you and me."

I close my mouth. Taken aback at what he just said and yet calmed. Can I try to imagine? I look up into Wood's eyes. His warm eyes were so easy to lose oneself in. Can I just let go? Just like that? And be with him? Those words sent a tingle down my spine. Will it be like he said? "Just you and me?"

I don't realize that I said those words out loud until I see a child-like grin appear on Wood's face. He was absolutely beaming. "Just you and me," he repeated.

I want to correct myself, tell him that it wasn't what I meant to say. But how can I bare to wipe the happiness off that face? How can I bare to yank everything out from underneath him? I can't do it. I think the wall that I have built around myself has started to crack… Not good.


	19. Here Goes Nothing

A/N: Don't even bother cursing at me... I already know I'm a terrible fanfiction writer. How long has it even been? Who the hell knows! Anyhoo, consider this an early Christmas present if you've still been following this story. If not, you're probably better off anyways. Who knows! I might even finish this story before the end of this year. But who am I kidding xD! "Here goes nothing!"

Chapter 19

It wasn't until we touched back onto the ground that I snapped out of my thoughts. I had been weighing the pros and cons if I were to accept Wood's propositions. Never would I have guessed that I'd be doing this, that I would actually consider even telling him that I liked him back. Did I even? Oh bugger! What's the use of lying to myself again and again? All it has done for me is give an excuse for Oliver Wood to kiss me over and over again!

"Well?"

My chain of thoughts are interrupted by a soft, hopeful voice. I look up into his eyes again. Gosh, his eyes are so distracting. I can't get my head to think straight and give a truthful answer. I drop my head again. Just say something, bloody hell!

"I.."

"Yes?" His response is immediate. I can only imagine how hard he's been trying to maintain his patience. Merlin only knows how much I've put this man through and expected him to be alright with it.

"I can't..."

Again, his reaction is immediate. The glitter in his eyes vanishes. His shoulders slump. Even his broom drops from his hand. My heart sinks. It isn't until now that I realize there is no way I can hurt this man without hurting myself. We're connected now. There's no going back. The feelings his body revealed is mirrored in my own. I felt the high that I developed with flying seeping from my fingertips. The ache in my heart from seeing him disappointed expands each passing moment. Tears, meant for this man, are brimming to the rims of my eyes.

Wood is right. Maybe just this once. To know that saying yes would bring the glitter, the strength, and the Wood I know back, there is already no doubt in my mind. However, I hate the stubborn side of myself. I hate the side of myself that needs to always be right. I hate the side of myself that won't just give myself over now. I hate the side of myself that is going to say what I am about to say.

"I need some time," I spoke cautiously. I don't want to hurt him anymore but I also need to be honest with myself. Just this once.

Wood looks up. The hope in his eyes return slightly. "Of course! All the time you need!"

I smile softly in appreciation. This is the last time I will make him wait. I swear to myself and to him.

"Perhaps you can give me an answer at my party? I'd love for you to come!" His smile is so heartbreaking that there is no way I am going to say no.

"Just tell me when and where." I return his smile with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

"It's this Saturday. Seven o'clock in the Great Hall." He leans in and kisses me lightly on my cheek.

I sigh, unable to deny how good that feels. My eyes flutter open as he leans in closely again and whispers, "Hopefully it won't be the last time I'll be seeing you."

He pulls away and turns to walk back to the sheds without a second glance. I look after him longingly. There is no denying it anymore. The feeling is there. It may even be mutually as strong. But telling him on the other hand, is a whole other story.

I'm going to kill that Ginny Weasley! I grip the fabric in my hands ferociously. I can't believe I let her do this to me again! I look up into the mirror again and groan. Red?! Really?! RED!

I look at the red gown in the mirror. It was sleeveless and with an embarrassingly low sweetheart neckline. It was an empire waist gown with a really tight bodice, leaving nothing to the imagintation. Two thick pieces of a darker red fabric covered with intricate beadwork crisscrossed under the bust. From there, the soft, flowing fabric draped down to the floor in two layers.

I let go of the gown and let it drift to the floor. I trudge to my bed and collapse in a heap. I can't do this! I let out a frustrated scream into my covers. I grab the note again and read it over.

A promise is a promise, Luna Lovegood. This gown is for you to wear at Wood's party. He's going to die when he sees you!

Thanks for the encouragement, Ginny.

I already have it all figured out. Just follow the spells I've written down below and your hair and makeup will be done! I also got you shoes to go with the gown! I need you to wear the entire ensemble. A promise is a promise, Luna Lovegood!

So you've said, Ginny Weasley. I cast a death glare at the pair of strappy gold heels strewn among the Christmas gift wrappings.

The spell for the hair and makeup will be undone at midnight so there's no washing it off once you've recited the spell! And one last promise, Luna!

The quota of promises for this girl was way over since the day I met her.

Remember to have fun! And to tell Wood how you truly feel. I mean it Luna!

All my love,

Ginny xxoo

P.S. Happy Christmas and New Year!

I push my head as far under the covers as I can and let out another loud groan. I'm going to rip my hair out before I put all this crap on! I sit up and stare at the gown on the floor, my hair messed into a rat's nest. I sigh as murderously as I can and as loud as I can as if Ginny can hear. She'll never hear the end of this so long as I live. The punishment will be swift. It will be without mercy. I'm going to find that girl the moment new term opens and I'm going to Crucio her to hell and back and then to hell again! I pick up the gown and look at it one last time in the mirror. She is as good as dead, I think, as I head to the girls' loo.

"A promise is a promise," I mimic Ginny's singsong voice as I put everything on as quickly and without thought as I can. I cast the spell and didn't even dare look into the mirror, afraid of what I might see. All I felt was my hair being lifted up and off the nape of my neck. I slip on the heels, nearly breaking my ankles on two occassions. Of all the well thought plans Ginny thought she made, she forgot to tell me how to walk in these. I keep adjusting the the neckline, trying to pull it higher and higher. Although it never seems to have moved in the first place, it keeps feeling like it's slipping past where it's supposed to be, which is at my throat.I stumble out of the lavatory and back into my room. I deliberately avoid looking into the full length mirror and rummage through the wrappings. Did she not give me at least a scarf or a covering? I'm going to freeze in this! As if on cue, goosebumps formed from my bare shoulders all the way to my wrists. I shivered. To hell with this! I stomp out of the room and down the stairs to the common room with as much flair as I can manage, only tripping three times.

As I make my way down to the Great Hall, the music coming from within becomes louder and louder. Did Wood manage a live band for his going away party? I peak in through the crack in the doors and confirm my own thought. The four long tables for each house and its accompanying benches have vanished. A stage is set up at the end of the hall for the band and a large empty space is left directly in front of it acting as the dance floor. At least ten circular tables are set up for dining and another five tall cocktail tables are placed closest to the entrance for drinks. This is one going away party.

Almost everybody has arrived already. They are either drinking at the cocktail tables, settling down in their seats for the meal, or dancing already. I'm surprised so many people had actually stayed at Hogwarts this holiday. Great, more people to witness me making a fool out of myself. I inhale a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter as I push open the doors.


End file.
